


walk, walk fashion baby

by disgruntledkittenface



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Anton Zedd Zavlaski (mentioned), Banter, Barebacking, Bebe Rexha/Luke Malak - Freeform, Boys Kissing, Brunch, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, Ed Sheeran (mentioned) - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Harry Styles/Liam Payne - Freeform, Instagram, Journalist Louis, Louis is in a slump, M/M, Mark Jarvis (mentioned) - Freeform, Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes/Hailee Steinfeld (mentioned), Pig and Stinky Blob, Rimming, Smut, Zayn Malik/Gigi Hadid (mentioned), because he's not fulfilled at work, but Nick is Nick, onto the smut tags, so it takes place in London
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 16:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19212949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface
Summary: He couldn’t give a fuck about impressing these people, he’s only there to play the supportive boyfriend. But as he searches high and low for said boyfriend, one thought keeps gnawing at him, the sinking suspicion that Nick had dressed him up not so that Louis would feel more comfortable at the event, but so that Nick would feel more comfortable with Louis at the event.Maybe this assignment is starting to fuck with his head.Louis loves his supportive boyfriend, his passionate and interesting band of friends and coworkers, and his pair of quirky and dedicated dogs. What he doesn’t love is his job as co-editor of the Lifestyle section at a popular site aimed at millennials. But he was getting by until a new assignment landed in his lap: Let Your Boyfriend Dress You For A Week. His best mate Harry assured him it’d be a laugh, a bit of fun, but Louis was sure that Nick would dress him like an utter knob and his mates would take the piss all week.He didn’t expect to actually learn something about himself.





	walk, walk fashion baby

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this almost on a whim because I was in a slump and wanted to try writing my way out of it. I’m so grateful to the mods for running this fest and giving this fic a home. Thanks to [ Kim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimmieRocks/pseuds/crinkle-eyed-boo) for talking through the plot and cheering me on (I definitely stole “our clothes are a reflection of our mental state” directly from you in gchat thanks and sorry). I wouldn’t have been able to complete this without [ Nic’s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/pseuds/YesIsAWorld) insight and enthusiasm, thank you so, so much for making me better. And thanks to [ Writ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft) for the brit pick! Any remaining mistake are entirely my own.
> 
> One note: I didn’t want grieving to be part of Louis’ (or Nick’s) arc in this fic, so this is like an everyone lives verse. Neither of their families appear in the fic, and there are just one or two mentions of family members throughout.

**DAY ONE**

“Just give me  _ one _ button undone, darling, that’s it, there you go. Not so scary, now is it?”

Louis bats Nick’s hand away and, rolling his eyes, undoes the top button of the stiff, new Burberry blouse that his boyfriend has chosen for him.

“Oi! Just take the picture,” Louis grumbles, tugging at his short sleeve. Nick beaming at him, proud or smug (tossup really as to which), will only annoy him further, so Louis keeps his eyes down, smoothing a hand over the front of the bold, but admittedly classic print he’s covered in against his will.

“I will if you ever look up,” Nick replies, the sarcastic words cut by the smile evident in his voice. “Come on, love, give us a pose. We don’t have all day.”

“Alright, yeah, yeah,” Louis mutters, straightening his shoulders and looking up. He sets his feet shoulder width apart and clasps his hands in front of his body. Maybe the confident stance will hide the fact that he feels like an utter knob in these clothes. “Go on, then.”

Nick snaps several photos, oohing and aahing and ordering Louis to, quote,  _ smolder more, _ before declaring that he’s got it and Louis can relax. He hands Louis’ phone back to him and Louis’ eyelashes flutter at the unexpected soft kiss pressed to his cheek before Nick steps back.

“You look gorgeous, love,” he says, reaching a hand out to brush Louis’ fringe off his forehead. “Delicious. Positively scrumptious.”

“Think it’s time to leave for brunch,” Louis says, pocketing his phone. “You need food if you’re calling me scrumptious.”

Nick rolls his eyes but nods, following Louis to the front hall so they can grab their jackets and kiss the doggies goodbye. It doesn’t take long to make their way to the restaurant where they’re meeting friends for brunch, sharing a cigarette between them as they walk briskly, Louis’ phone burning a hole in his pocket. 

He’ll post a photo, but in his own time. 

Nick leads the way into the trendy (read: hipster) restaurant, bright and airy thanks to its floor-to-ceiling windows letting the late autumn sun warm the minimalist decor. 

“Lou! Grimmy!” Harry’s exuberant greeting travels from the far end of their table. “Down here, we saved you seats!”

Louis heads down the table, nodding and smiling as he goes while Nick stops for chats and hugs. He pulls up a chair across from Harry, who’s currently feeding his boyfriend a strawberry, and casts a look down the table to see if any other chairs are empty. No such luck. 

Stuck with the lovebirds then. 

“My god, the pair of you are disgusting,” Nick remarks as he joins them. He turns to consult Louis. “Have they always been this disgusting?”

“Hey,” Harry whines, drawing the single syllable out for as long as he can. He wipes the corner of Liam’s mouth with the pad of his thumb as Liam dopily smiles at him. Harry’s eyes light up when they fall on Louis and he claps his hands together. “Oh, I almost forgot! Today’s the day! Stand up, do us a twirl.”

“What looks good to eat?” Louis asks, leaning forward to study the menu in front of him. “This isn’t one of them avocado toast places, is it?”

“Louis!” Harry beseeches. “Take your jacket off! Come on, day one!”

Louis sighs heavily, but shrugs off his jacket. He stands up for a moment, gesturing down at his short-sleeve button down, and plops back down in his seat.

“Perfect ensemble for a casual Sunday brunch, if I do say so myself,” Nick remarks, puffing his chest out with pride. “Classic Burberry offset with loose, but not sloppy, boyfriend jeans. Brilliant, yes, but hold your applause, I’m rather shy, you see.” 

“You look smart, Lou,” Liam remarks, topping off Harry’s coffee with the carafe on the table. He pushes his glasses up his nose as Harry presses a kiss to his hair in thanks. “Dead smart.”

“That’s what I told him,” Nick says, nudging Louis’ phone on the table closer to him. “But he doesn’t listen. Hasn’t even posted anything from the photoshoot we did before leaving the house.”

“Lou,” Harry says sternly, wagging a finger. “That’s part of the rules, you have to post a photo of the outfit your boyfriend dressed you in each day. You  _ agreed.” _

“When did I agree?” Louis scoffs, miming Harry’s finger wag back at him. “I didn’t agree to any of this, you pulled rank, Mr. Senior Editor. In an  _ email. _ Very impersonal, if I’m honest, Haz.”

“They needed someone from every department, Lou,” Liam says patiently. “And you got picked, fair and square.”

Louis sniffs, ignoring his friends in favor of the menu. There’s no way Harry didn’t rig the name picking for this ‘let your boyfriend dress you for a week’ assignment, but he can’t prove anything. Yet. When the waitress comes over, he orders a full English, and she assures him that she’ll be back shortly with a pot of Yorkshire tea, so at least that’s sorted. He’ll need the sustenance to deal with this crowd.

“Still can’t believe you assigned this to anyone,” he grumbles, fiddling with his phone. “This kind of thing is for boring straight couples, Harold. ‘I let my boyfriend dress me for a week,’ honestly. ’S like, peak heteronormativity.”

“Mm, yes,” Nick chimes in as he reaches for the coffee carafe. “Harold Styles, poster boy for heteronormativity.”

Harry pulls himself away from smooching his boyfriend to tsk at Louis.

“That’s why there’s a mix of straight and queer couples, though,” Harry reproaches, furrowing his brow. “It’s subversive, Lou, that’s the whole point.”

“I don’t see you volunteering as tribute,” Louis mutters. The waitress delivers his tea and he smiles up in thanks before reaching for the small jug of milk across the table.

“I wish I could,” Harry laments, plucking Liam’s glasses off his face and trying them on for the size. Liam giggles as Harry vamps at him, and Louis tries to remember a time before the pair of them were this soppy but finds that he can’t.

“Aw, babe,” Liam coos, bopping Harry on the nose. 

“Aw, babe?” Nick throws a small piece of bread at them. “You’ve spent too much time in America, Liam.”

“Sure you wish you could, Haz,” Louis retorts, giving Nick’s thigh a quick squeeze. “But I don’t see you showing up to brunch in a mesh Gucci crop top, now do I?”

“That was one time,” Liam exclaims, whipping his head toward Louis as Nick cackles.

“Yeah, yeah, Payno,” Louis laughs, his spirits lifting as he pours his tea. “’S me job as your best mate not to let you forget, though. That mesh was see-through, no one needs to see your nips, mate.”

“Agree to disagree,” Harry says loftily before taking a sip of coffee. “Post the photo, Lou. Please?”

“Alright, alright,” Louis sighs. He has to do it eventually, might as well get it over with. He flicks through the photos on his phone and glances up questioningly to Nick when he finds a decent one. Nick nods and Louis clicks to upload it to Instagram.

“And you two say we’re disgusting,” Harry comments, sitting back and crossing his arms.

“You are,” Louis says, eyes on his phone as he copies and pastes the sample caption that Harry had emailed with the assignment. “Right, Day One: boyfriend is Nick, shirt is Burberry – how many r’s in that? And what about the jeans?”

“Here, let me,” Nick says, setting down his coffee and reaching for Louis’ phone. Louis hands it over willingly; despite Nick’s downright glee at being in charge of his wardrobe for the next six days, Louis trusts him not to embarrass him (more than strictly necessary, anyway) on his own Instagram account. 

“What are you lot doing after this?” Liam asks, blithely ignoring Harry as he blatantly steals a chunk of Liam’s waffle off his plate. “We were thinking of seeing a film, up for it?”

“Pix and George wanted to go shopping,” Nick answers, handing Louis’ phone back to him. Louis sets it down by his freshly delivered plate, not bothering to look at the Instagram post.

“No clothes,” Harry declares, pointing a finger at the pair of them. “All of the outfits have to be things you already own.”

“Yes, Harold, thank you,” Nick says dismissively as he flags down the waitress for more coffee. “Trust me, we won’t need any new clothes. There’s a whole side of the closet of things Louis bought or got as pressies and doesn’t even wear.”

Louis wrinkles his brow as he takes a bite of eggs. That can’t be true, but he’s well over the topic, so he lets it go, focusing instead on getting just the right amount of beans onto the bite of toast he’s about to eat. 

“Anyway, we’re shopping for furniture, I think,” Nick remarks. He turns to add to the cacophony of their long table, calling out, “Right, Pix? New end tables or summat?”

Louis tunes out (he has to  _ go _ furniture shopping, why would he want to hear about it beforehand) and checks his phone. His mum has already reposted his photo and he has loads of likes and several comments, including a fair few from friends back in Donny. Wincing in anticipation, he thumbs over to read them. 

_ Not too shabby, lad! Nick’s got taste haha _

_ Class, mate !! _

_ Proper posh, bout time knobhead _

_ Send Nick over to my closet, there’s a good lad, Ive got nowt to wear _

_ Lou mate you’re lookin siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick _

Well, that’s… not what Louis was expecting. If any of his mates had posted about their partner dressing them for a week, Louis’d be first in line to drag their arse. He wouldn’t be commenting with thumbs up emojis and seemingly sincere compliments. 

It’s possible Louis is a bit of a dickhead. 

Nick sits back and rests his arm along the back of Louis’ chair, toying with the seam at Louis’ shoulder with his fingers.

“Penny for them?” he asks lowly, leaning in close and nosing at Louis’ ear. 

Louis shakes his head and pockets his phone before returning his attention to his food. It was bad enough when he thought Harry was just doing this to fuck with him, or so Nick could dress him up like a doll. When he expected all his friends would be taking the piss all week. But the idea that maybe Harry was trying to do something nice for him, something he  _ needed? _ Somehow that’s worse. A cold feeling washes over him, something uncomfortably close to shame, and a pit settles in his stomach. Shoveling more greasy food into his mouth does nothing to make it go away but at least the food tastes good. Especially for a hipster place like this. 

“Oi, Tommo!” Liam’s teasing tone interrupts Louis’ reverie. “Can you pass the coffee? I’ve asked you twice already.” He shakes his head fondly. “You’re off in your little world, aren’t you.”

“What is it even doing by me plate?” Louis demands, pointing at the offending object. “Never touch the stuff.”

Making a show of hurriedly handing the coffee over earns him a laugh and he starts bantering with his friends and his boyfriend again, shaking off the sulk that was threatening to ruin his morning. Good thing, too, he’s not going to make it easy for Nick this week but he doesn’t want to be a mardy bum for the next six days either. Wouldn’t be fun for anyone, and according to Harry, that’s what this assignment is supposed to be. 

_ Fun.  _

**DAY TWO**

_ “Walk, walk fashion baby, work it move that bitch crazy…” _

Louis groans and smushes his face into his pillow when his alarm starts blaring. He brings his hands up to cover his ears, his reflexes too slow to silence his alarm, but it’s futile against the volume turned all the way up on his phone. Always a bit sharper than Louis in the morning, Nick crawls over him and silences the racket before curling up behind up and pulling him into a hug. The temptation to go back to sleep in his warm, cozy bed with his warm, cozy boyfriend is too great, and Louis lets himself doze for a few minutes. Nick noses at the nape of his neck and then starts pressing lingering kisses along his skin, closer and closer to Louis’ ear before finally nipping at the lobe.

“Oi!” Louis waves a hand around behind him until he makes contact with Nick’s face. “Mind your manners.”

Nick laughs, capturing Louis’ hand to kiss his knuckles.

“Time to wake up,” he murmurs into Louis’ skin. “Places to go, people to see,  _ outfits to wear.” _

Louis groans and pulls his hand back to rub his eyes. Nick is entirely too cheerful in the mornings now that he doesn’t have to get up before dawn for work. Louis would hate him if he didn’t love him so much.

“Five more minutes,” Louis declares, snuggling back into Nick’s body and clutching Nick’s hand against his chest. 

“Five more minutes in bed,” Nick agrees easily, disentangling his hand to smooth over Louis’ skin. He rubs up and down Louis’ tummy a couple of times before letting his hand drift lower. “Not five more minutes of sleep, though.”

“Deal,” Louis smiles into his pillow. He cups the back of Nick’s head behind him, gripping his soft hair, as Nick kisses his neck. “Did you change my alarm tone to Gaga?”

“Appropriate, yeah?” Nick nods, slowly brushing his fingers over Louis’ morning wood. “Day two, innit?”

“Don’t remind me,” Louis manages before his breath hitches at Nick’s tongue lightly traveling along his neck.

The room is quiet, still; it’s early enough for the dogs to be asleep in their beds out in the sitting room, and the sounds of Louis’ breath catching and quickening fill the air, magnified by the early hour. Louis shivers as Nick strokes him to full hardness, gasping when Nick’s thumb rubs over his dripping cockhead. Nick presses his own hardening length against Louis’ arse, clearly getting off on the noises he’s drawing from Louis, who’s already close to coming even though he’s barely opened his eyes this morning. 

“Love the sounds you make, pet,” Nick says roughly, as though Louis doesn’t know. He runs his tongue along the shell of Louis’ ear before whispering, “You’re so fucking fit, love, how did I manage to pull someone as fit as you?”

Louis tries to take the piss, he really does, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out except a moan loud enough to wake the neighbors. He’s too turned on to even be embarrassed, totally caught up in the feel of Nick’s hand on his cock, his skin pressed against his, his breath on his neck.

“Wish we had more time,” Nick continues, his low voice right by Louis’ ear. “You’d like that too, yeah? I’d take my time, suck you while I open you up with my fingers.” Louis starts to tremble as his mind fills with the image, bucking slightly into Nick’s hand. “That’s right, love, you would, you’d love it. So easy for my fingers. I’d get you all ready and then have you sit on my cock, watch you bounce in my lap–”

Louis shakes apart, coming in thick pulses all over Nick’s hand as he strokes him through it. He pushes Nick’s hand away when he becomes oversensitive and rests back against him, the room still quiet around them as though Louis hasn’t just had an earth-shattering orgasm to start his day. Nick peppers his neck with kisses before pulling back.

“Mmph, where’d you go?” Louis asks, yawning and patting the pillow behind him.

“Five minutes are up,” Nick says as he climbs out of bed and starts padding over to the en suite. “Suck me off in the shower?”

And Louis supposes that’s worth getting out of bed for. 

*

After a leisurely shower and an orgasm apiece, Nick abandons Louis in the en suite to take the dogs out and get their morning caffeine needs sorted. Louis hums as he blow dries his hair, letting his fringe fall across his forehead. He rarely attempts actually styling his hair anymore; he’s only kept up with blow drying as he gets cold so easily. He’s examining his reflection, deciding against the effort of shaving, when Nick appears with two mugs, tea for Louis and coffee for himself. 

“Thanks, love,” Louis says, reaching for his cuppa and taking a sip. Nick stands in the doorway holding his mug out to clink, smirking when Louis belatedly puts it together. Wanker. “What are we toasting, then?”

“Day two,” Nick winks at him, his grin disappearing behind his mug as he takes a drink. “Now, then. Let’s get you ready for the day, shall we?”

Louis forces a small smile. There’s only a couple of butterflies in his stomach; how bad could what Nick has in store for him really be? Like Harry had reminded them, it’s meant to be all things Louis already owns. He moves to walk out to the bedroom but Nick blocks his way.

“Nicholas?” he says sweetly. “Do you mind?”

“Get you ready for the day as in,” Nick waves a hand at the counter, “grooming, love. Love your fringe, but we’re doing a quiff today, and I want you clean shaven.”

“Nicholas,” Louis says less sweetly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you trying to  _ Queer Eye _ me?”

Nick laughs in his face, lovely deep crinkles forming around his eyes, and sets his coffee mug down. He takes Louis by the shoulders and turns him to face the mirror, standing behind him. Louis glares at Nick’s reflection; it’s not such a ridiculous question, after all. There was a month straight when every time Louis walked in the sitting room, Nick was either crying at an episode of the makeover show or drooling over Antoni and his stupid smile. And his stupid The National t-shirt. And his stupid avocados.

“I promise, no avocados,” Nick says mock seriously, meeting Louis’ eyes in the mirror. “No soul searching, no tears. But the look I picked out for today calls for clean shaven and it won’t kill you to style your hair just once. For me?”

“Fine,” Louis clips. He doesn’t mind much, but he’s not going to let on to Nick. “Do your worst.”

Louis finds that he does actually mind when Nick insists on doing the grooming himself. First, he makes Louis stand still in front of the mirror as he painstakingly restyles Louis’ hair. Then he confiscates Louis’ razor, like he’s a child and can’t be trusted, and carefully shaves his face for him, tilting his chin this way and that until he’s satisfied, even patting him with aftershave once he’s finished. The quick swipe of cologne he manages to dab on Louis’ pulse points when he’s not looking almost pushes Louis to his breaking point, but he grits his teeth and bears it.

Nick is cute when he’s having is fun, that’s all. 

By the time they’re finally done with Louis’ grooming, his tea’s gone cold and both Pig and Stinky have come to investigate, sitting outside the door to the en suite, tilting their heads with curiosity. Louis steps gingerly past them and walks over to the bed where Nick has laid out his clothes for him.

The trousers aren’t too bad. Simple, black with a subtle pinstripe. He’s had those for maybe a year or so. Louis scratches his head, trying to remember the last time he wore them. Now that he thinks about it, he’s probably been throwing on trackies more often than not; it’s been awhile since he wore a pair of trousers like this without an occasion. 

The white polo shirt next to the trousers on the bed, he knows he’s never seen before. He’d remember the upside-down GIVENCHY lettering across the front. Maybe Nick did a sneaky shopping trip last week before the assignment technically started. Louis draws the line at going through his boyfriend’s phone for proof, but he’s certain that Nick knew all about this before he did.

“Go on,” Nick encourages him, sitting on his side of the bed and pulling his phone to record Pig for her Instagram Story fans. “Wanna see you kit out.”

Louis twists a smile at him and pulls the trousers on, leaving the flies undone as he eases the polo shirt over his hair full of product. All three of them watch avidly as he tucks the shirt in and does up the trousers before perching on the bed and slipping on the trainers Nick had set out, remembering the day Nick had encouraged him to buy shoes from Stella McCartney for once over Adidas. After doing up the buttons at the shirt collar, he looks over to Nick.

“Well?” he asks, standing and doing a turn. “How do I look?”

“I love it,” Nick says simply. “Gorgeous, love.”

“The shirt feels a bit–”

“Comfy, yeah? I knew you’d like it.”

“–wanky?”

Nick pulls a face and crosses his arms. 

“’S just the logo, love, I feel… loud,” Louis finishes lamely, glancing back down at his chest. He’s a writer, he should be able to find more evocative words. “Just, usually go for more subtle branding, maybe. D’you know what I mean?”

“You don’t  _ look _ wanky,” Nick says. Louis searches his face for signs that he’s blowing smoke up Louis’ arse but finds none, which unfortunately does nothing to quell the feeling that he has a spotlight on his chest. “And this isn’t meant to be loud. I thought you’d like it, this is more subtle than the Burberry yesterday, innit? Just takes a bit of getting used to, yeah?”

“Yeah, ’spose,” Louis mutters, smoothing his hand over the soft cotton fabric. It’s not like he has much choice in the matter. He chucks his phone across the bed. “Another photoshoot, you reckon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got just the pose for you today,” Nick says gleefully, picking up the phone and getting up to round the bed to art direct. “Right, okay, you want one hand all the way in the pocket, and then just hook your thumb in the other, and I just want you to look to the side…”

Nick demonstrates the pose he’s after, and there’s no fucking way Louis is doing that. He crouches down, rests his elbows on his knees, and looks up to his dismayed boyfriend.

“But, you can’t even see–”

“Yes, you can, love, just stand there and the logo will show; my arms aren’t blocking it.”

Nick clucks his tongue, but starts snapping photos as Louis tries to keep his face neutral, feeling like a right dick even though he’d won the fight over the pose. It’s a good three or four minutes until Nick declares that he’s captured the perfect shot, which seems excessive to Louis’ screaming muscles, but he should have known better than underestimate Nick’s petty side. 

They go down to the kitchen, trailed by the doggies, and Louis sits at the island to swipe through the photos as Nick prepares him a second cuppa. 

“D’you want to me to do the caption again, love?” Nick asks, coming up behind him and hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder. 

“Yeah, d’you mind?” Louis replies, frowning at his phone. “That one, you think?”

“Definitely that one.”

Louis gets up and mixes a couple of cereals together for a quick breakfast, the sex and grooming and photoshoot having taken up a fair amount of his morning, and starts stuffing his face as Nick carefully taps out a caption and finishes up Louis’ Day Two Instagram post for him.

“You got a load of nice comments yesterday,” Nick remarks when he’s done and sliding Louis’ phone over the island counter to him. “And everyone at brunch loved the Burberry. You’d probably like the print better as an accent, a baseball cap or summat, but was still a good look, wasn’t it?”

“Wasn’t bad,” Louis agrees casually before eating another spoonful of cereal. Nick’s right, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. “I’ve got to be off, got meetings all morning. We’ll do tea when you’re off work?”

“Yeah, love,” Nick says softly, looking up from his own phone to purse his lips for a kiss. Louis gives him a light peck, he really does have to be off, before setting his bowl in the sink and heading to the hallway. Nick calls after him, “Text me what people say today, alright?”

“Will do, yeah, yeah,” Louis shouts back over his shoulder, having no intention of following through. He throws his coat on and grabs his work bag and, with one last pat to each of the doggies’ heads, he’s off to work.

*

Louis is always running late, a bad habit he’s given up trying to break at this point, but he’s really cutting it close as he dashes through the cubicles on his floor. After flinging his bag onto his desk, he scoots into the kitchenette and prepares a cup of tea. There’s no way he’ll get through the morning’s staff meeting without it. 

The meeting is well underway by the time Louis sneaks in the back. He sidles up to Zayn, who’s leaning against the back wall with a couple of new-looking hardcover books clutched to his chest. James, the site’s editor in chief, is up front, going on about click-throughs from last week’s email blasts, something Louis should be up to speed on but can never be arsed to pay attention to. He tunes out and rest his eyes for a moment as he leans back against the wall, too.

He should be grateful. He  _ is _ grateful. The industry is pretty fucked these days, print more so but digital too, with people being made redundant left and right. He’s lucky to have a steady job as co-editor of the Lifestyle section of a fairly popular site, one that millennials actually read and boost on social media, despite the requisite number of millennials think-pieces they post each month. Or maybe because of them, fuck if Louis knows.

It’s just not what he set out to do. It sounds wanky even to his ears, but Louis meant to be a music journalist. He wants to write concert and album reviews, share critiques and give context for trends, interview artists and find out how they tick – and not just the big ones, he wants to promote the small fish in the big pond, the ones whose work could mean something to people, if only they heard it. 

The Lifestyle section is a good gig, he knows that. The pay is decent, and they’re flexible about stuff like working from home. And if he’s honest, Louis is proud of a fair amount of the work he’s done and overseen the past couple of years. He’s been empowered to add a queer perspective to the relationship articles they post, and they’ve had good feedback on their work on toxic masculinity.

But it’s not what he set out to do even at this site, having lost out on the Music section to Ed and Anton. The site’s coverage leans toward pop, dominated by Ariana Grande lately, which Louis isn’t too keen on, but at least it’s music. And if he’d been hired in there, maybe he could have found ways to sneak more of his taste in now and then. But he’d missed out and he doubts another shot will come along soon; the lads seem happy there and they’re fucking good at what they do.

And, while he is grateful and proud (as he constantly reminds himself), Louis can’t help but resent the amount of time he has to spend bullshitting his way through stuff about meditation and crystals, or “productivity hacks” that work for absolutely no one in his experience. His mates have learned not to let him get started on the fucking zodiac. Louis’ co-editor, Jesy, is great about splitting up the nonsense stuff evenly, but there’s only so much she can do. 

Louis is just… well, he’s a little stuck.

A gentle nudge to his elbow startles Louis’ eyes open. James is rubbing his hands together mischievously at the front of the large conference room. Christ. What kind of mischief could he have up his sleeve? Louis takes a sip of tea as he ponders, glancing over at Zayn to nod his thanks. And he almost slops tea all down his front (thank Christ he doesn’t, he doesn’t even want to  _ think _ about the shit Nick would have given him) when he takes in what Zayn’s wearing.

Zayn pretty much lives in black skinnies and black t-shirts and then just throws a different coat on each day, a denim jacket or bomber when it’s a bit warmer out, or he’s likely to keep his winter coat on all day if there’s a chill. Like Louis, he runs cold. Today, however, Zayn is clad in an oversize navy blazer, open with gold buttons on each side, paired with light grey plaid trousers. And here Louis thought he had it bad. 

“...and I hope you’re all following the hashtag, it’s only Day Two and we’ve already seen some impressive ensembles. Wouldn’t you agree, Louis?”

Louis snaps his attention back to the front of the room to meet James’ sparkling eyes, ignoring the heads that have swiveled in his direction.

“Yes, sir,” Louis smirks, lifting his mug in toast. “Always in full agreement, that’s me.” 

“Ah, Louis,” James replies, grinning and holding a hand over his heart. “You’ve always been my favorite. Now tell us, we’re dying to know – who are you wearing?”

Louis holds up a finger to beg a minute and fishes his phone out of his pocket. 

“Let’s see, um,” he mutters as he pulls up the photo that Nick had captioned for him. “Okay, according to Nick–” he looks up and around the room, “–that’s my boyfriend, Nick, the trousers are Emporio Armani, you can all see the polo is Givenchy–” he waves his hand over the upside-down black letters across his chest as he surely murders the pronunciation “–and the trainers are Stella McCartney.”

“What do we say, Harold,” James says, consulting Harry, who’s sitting at the front of the room. “How did Nick do?”

_ “Very _ well,” Harry says, nodding in approval. “Lou, you look so snazzy.”

Louis snorts. He has no idea how Harry hoodwinked James into hiring him as senior editor of the Style department what with the grandpa clothes he swans around the office in. It’s a nice respite from the unbuttoned designer blouses and skintight jeans he used to swan around in, at least Louis can get through his day without seeing Harry’s tits or the outline of his prick, but the cardigans are ghastly and he’s basically swimming in trousers big enough for at least two.

And don’t get Louis started on the loafers.

“Alright, well done, Nick,” James says, clapping his hands together. “You do look smashing, Louis.”

Always the class clown, unable to resist having attention on him even when it’s due to his garish designer logo, Louis takes a bow for the room to snickers and light applause.

“Okay, people,” James continues, raising his voice to regain the crowd’s waning attention, “so if you see someone in an unusual ensemble around the office this week, they’re most likely one of Harold’s guinea pigs so treat them with kindness and, as I said, follow along their torment – I mean,  _ journey _ – on Instagram. Like, comment, repost, help us get some buzz going, yeah? Alright, that’s it for today, go on, get out of here.”

A low hum of small talk overtakes the room as people start getting up and filing out of the exits. Louis’ next meeting is in the same conference room, so he takes the chair nearest him at the table, content to sip his tea for the next few minutes until it’s brought to order. Zayn pulls up the chair next to him, setting his books on the table.

“Is this Gigi’s doing, then?” Louis asks, gesturing toward Zayn’s outfit. 

“Yeah,” Zayn replies, shrugging and running a hand through his hair. “Dunno, ’s a bit of alright, innit?”

“What’s that?” Louis asks, leaning forward to squint at the smart white shirt Zayn’s got on under his blazer. “There’s something on your shirt, what is that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Zayn says, tilting his chin to his chest as he looks down and holds his blazer open to show the pale gold accessory over his shirt to Louis. “G said to call it a mid-layer garment. She got it off work, did a shoot for Vuitton last month.”

“Looks like a harness, mate,” Louis comments, sitting back. “She get a leash to go with?”

“Fuck off,” Zayn laughs, shoving at Louis’ shoulder.

“Always knew you were a kinky fuck,” Louis murmurs from behind his mug, earning another laugh and a wink from his friend. 

Louis finishes off his tea and takes stock of the conference room. He probably doesn’t have time to get another cuppa; most of the editors are already milling around the room, following the larger staff meeting. As more of them start grabbing places at the table, one of Louis’ favorite coworkers – one of his favorite people, really – drops into the seat on Zayn’s other side.

“Mornin’ fellas,” Niall greets them, setting his laptop on the table and entering his password before glancing up. “You do something to your hair, Tommo? Looks good.”

“Alright, Ni?” Louis replies. His fingers twitch toward his phone in his pocket, but he decides against texting Nick about that particular compliment. He knows how little it takes for Nick to gloat. 

“Bet you’re glad you got out of this, yeah?” Zayn asks him, leaning back in his chair and facing Niall.

“What are you on about?” Niall asks, distracted as he pulls up a document to take notes in. He looks between Louis and Zayn. “The dressed by your partner thing? I got that assignment, too.”

Louis and Zayn exchange a puzzled glance. Niall is dressed in dark blue skinny jeans and a blue and white striped t-shirt, accessorized with brown boots and a matching brown belt. He looks exactly the same as any other day.

“Who dressed you up like that, then?” Louis demands. This has to be cheating, no way Niall didn’t dress himself that morning. “Was that Shawn? Or Hailee?”

“Or  _ Niall?” _ Zayns chimes in, narrowing his eyes.

“Fuck off, lads,” Niall laughs, shaking his head. “Shawn dressed me today, he and Hailee worked out some schedule between ’em, splitting up days and sharing and whatever.”

Niall is one of the few people Louis knows who’s openly poly, which might have factored into Harry drawing his name for the assignment now that he thinks of it. Louis would have guessed two partners would have meant twice the humiliation but apparently Niall just has better taste in partners than Louis does. 

“Sorry if my boyfriend loves me just as I am,” Niall says airily, turning back to his laptop.

“Oi, none of that Bridget Jones shit,” Louis orders, pointing a finger at Niall. “You know I still have rom com flashbacks from when Haz and I were flatmates.”

“Alright, children, find your seats.”

The room quiets down as Paul, the senior editor running the next meeting, syncs up his laptop to the flat screen mounted to the wall behind him. 

“I know James is excited about the partner dressing you assignment,” Paul says, his tone weary for a Monday morning. “Personally I can’t tell who got the worst of it, Jade or Perrie–”

“Paul!” Harry gasps, clutching his chest. “Uncalled for! Ladies, you both look lovely.”

Perrie, who works under Harry in the Fashion section, gets up and struts around the front of the room, reveling in the catcalls she gets for the baggy boyfriend jeans and matching denim jacket she’s kit out in, paired with hot pink stilettos and matching large, hot pink earrings that look kind of like tassels. It’s… a look, that’s for sure. 

“What do you think?” Perrie calls out to the room. “Alex said I could be a big-time magazine editor in these clothes.”

“You could be a  _ farmer _ in those clothes,” Jesy calls out, collapsing into giggles with the girls she’s sat with. 

“I don’t know  _ what _ you’re talking about, Paulie,” Jade declares as she stands and walks over to Perrie. She lifts Perrie’s hand and twirls, showing off her vintage-looking Spice Girls t-shirt tucked into gold sparkly flowing trousers. “Fabulous, innit?”

The pair of them vogue behind Paul, who sighs as he pulls up a report.

“Alright,” he says, waving a hand for them to take their seats. “Apologies, ladies. Now, then–”

“Jade, those  _ trousers,” _ Harry whistles. “If those were mine, I’d never take them off.”

“Oh god,” Jade laughs. “I got them for a concert, didn’t I, wore them to Beyonce. And so Jed asks me this morning what I’ve got on for the day and I tell him, I have a product launch party to cover tonight. I guess he thought I needed a bit of flash?”

“As I was saying,” Paul says, raising his voice. “This is all very exciting, but those articles will be due  _ next _ week, so for the moment, let’s focus on  _ this _ week, shall we? Right, let’s start with you, Zayn. What have you got?”

As Zayn starts taking the group through the reviews he’s got planned out for the week, Louis surreptitiously pulls his phone out and ignores his Instagram notifications to check his work email, hoping that Jesy has sent him a rundown of their workload for the week. He catches her eye and mouths “thank you” when he finds that she has. Jesy usually takes lead and speaks on their behalf, but she’s saved his arse more than once by making sure he’s prepared. He should really treat her to lunch one day this week. And next week too, probably. 

Zayn is going on about whatever is about to set the literary world on fire as Louis sets his phone down on the table, his passion for his subject evident in his smile and the way he keeps gesturing with his hand. If only Louis could muster about a quarter of that enthusiasm for crystals. He sighs, moving his mug out of Zayn’s reach just in case, and tries to pay attention. 

*

Louis makes it through the meeting and then the one after that. He trudges back to his desk to grab his bag so he can head downstairs, seeing as how his meetings have eaten up his whole morning and now it’s lunchtime. 

He’s knackered and it’s only half noon on Monday. It’s going to be a long week. 

Jade, in her blinding sparkly trousers, is standing by Jesy’s desk with Bebe, her co-editor in the Beauty department. The three of them have got coats and purses in hand, and they look up as he approaches.

“Look how lovely and normal you look, Louis,” Jade says wistfully. “So smart.”

“You clean up so good, Louis,” Bebe adds, nodding. “I love you all clean shaven, it really shows off those cheekbones.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Louis says graciously, taking a small bow. He walks around them to reach his desk.

“Lou, babes, what are you doing for lunch?” Jesy asks, stuffing her phone in her purse. “You want to grab something with us?”

“Love to, but I can’t today,” Louis says regretfully. The girls are a riot, he does like joining them every now and again. “Got a mate from home, Luke, coming to eat down in the caf with me today.”

He straightens up after slinging his bag over his shoulder and finds the girls all frozen, staring at him. 

“Hot Luke?” Jade asks, the intensity pouring off of her, like it’s a matter of life and death or summat.

“Um, I suppose?” Louis scratches his head. He’s known Luke too long to see him like that, but he can understand how the girls might. “I mean, yeah, he’s alright, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Hot Luke!” Jesy squeals, flailing her hands as all three of them hop up and down.

“What are you lot on about?” Louis asks, annoyed not to be in on whatever their little joke is. It’s his friend, it’s not like Luke is famous or anything.

“Okay,” Bebe turns to him. She takes a breath before explaining seriously, “So here’s the thing. Your friend, Luke? He’s hot.”

“So fit, Louis,” Jade says dreamily. “Like…  _ so _ fit.”

“We have a group chat for when he pops up on your Instagram,” Jesy adds, pulling her phone out and holding up her screen to display a series of water drop and aubergine emojis between rows of all caps text. 

“What’s he doing in town?” Bebe asks, her eyes laser focused on Louis. “He’s your friend from Donny, right? We didn’t think he lived here from your geotags.”

“Yeah, like I said, he’s a mate from home,” Louis says. He gently pulls Jesy’s hand closer to him and squints at the display to check the time. “He’s in town interviewing for a job, told him I could make lunch if he came to me, and now I’m running late so if you girls will excuse me–”

“Can we come with?” Jade asks eagerly. “We want Bebe to meet him!”

“Yes! Louis, come on,” Bebe exclaims. “You owe me for that botox research I sent you last month! I haven’t had a serious girlfriend or boyfriend in, like, four years–”

“Married to her job, this one is,” Jesy adds, shaking her head. 

“–and he’s hot,” Bebe finishes, crossing her arms. “Really hot.”

“Yeah, you mentioned,” Louis says drily. Well, why not? He owes Jesy anyway, and they can act as a buffer so he won’t have to talk about Nick dressing him up all week. Or at least, not as much. “Alright, follow me, we’re late.”

The girls squeal and clap their hands and Louis has a hard time hiding his smile at their delight as he leads the way to the lift.

*

Lunch with Luke and the girls is fun and passes entirely too quickly. They banter and laugh the whole time, and Louis’ pretty sure Luke gets Bebe’s number on the way out before they hug and say their goodbyes. The rest of the afternoon goes fast too, Louis and Jesy comparing notes (his mental and her literal) from their morning meetings and divvying up work to assign to freelancers for the week. He puts his headphones on to ward off comments about his clothes and gets to work, concentrating on transcribing an interview and wincing at the sound of his recorded voice. But then he gets to start outlining a piece he’s actually excited about, one about the collective experience of watching footie down the pub, which he supposes makes up for the some of the day. 

And the outfit.

He heads to the gym after finishing up at the office and gets in a session with his cheerful trainer, Mark, who’s already liked Louis’ Day One and Two Instagram posts. He teases Louis about what Nick might choose next as he puts him through his paces. After working up a sweat for an hour, Louis decides to shower at the gym and change back into his Day Two outfit. 

After all, he can be a good sport. 

It takes longer than he expects to get home between traffic and stopping for takeaway, so he’s only just gotten the doggies outside and lit a cigarette when Nick gets home. 

“Hiya,” Nick greets him, poking his head out the door before stepping into the garden and beckoning for a drag of Louis’ cigarette.

“Kiss first,” Louis demands, holding his left hand out of Nick’s reach and pursing his lips.

The dogs swarm their legs, jumping up for their kisses too, but Nick makes them wait, leaning in and giving Louis a soft, lingering kiss.

“Missed you today,” he whispers before plucking the cigarette from Louis’ fingers. He takes a drag and hands it back, crouching down to smother the dogs with love. 

Louis flicks the cigarette, trying not to let on how fond he is. Lost fucking cause, the three of them are just really cute together; it would melt anyone’s heart. Nick glances up and smirks.

“Yes, my smushies,” he coos, turning his attention back to the overexcited dogs. “Yes, your daddies love you so much, yes we do, we do, don’t we? Yes, we  _ do.” _

“I’ll give you lot some privacy,” Louis sniffs, throwing the cigarette butt to the ground and stepping on it. He makes it halfway to the door before Nick catches him around the waist and starts peppering the side of his face with kisses.

“Yes, smushie,” he coos, lowering his pitch, “I love  _ you, _ yes I do.”

“Geroff,” Louis laughs, feigning trying to fight Nick off for a moment before he grips Nick’s hands wrapped around his tummy. “Missed you, too.”

“Gonna tell me all about your day?” Nick asks, as Louis tries to walk toward the house, awkwardly pulling Nick along with him. “Expected you to be blowing up my phone but I’ve heard nowt.”

Louis can practically feel Nick pouting at him as they reach the door and he laughs, disentangling and holding the door open for the dogs running through.

“Wasn’t much to report, really,” Louis shrugs, walking over to the kitchen island and opening the bag of takeaway. He sets the styrofoam boxes on the counter and gets forks out as Nick automatically starts the tea kettle. “I mean, wasn’t a big deal. People liked the outfit.”

“People did, hm?” Nick comments, giving Louis a very unsubtle look up and down. 

“I got used to it,” Louis says airily, sitting down and opening his steaming container. “Like you said.”

“I’m glad, love,” Nick murmurs. He walks over and picks a bit of lint off Louis’ shirt before hugging him ’round his shoulders from behind and kissing his cheek. “I’m really glad.”  

“Alright, you sop,” Louis says, shaking him off. “Almost as bad as Harry and Liam, I swear. Come on, then, I’d rather hear about your day, I’m sure it was more interesting than mine.”

Nick’s face looks a bit pinched at that, like he’s worried about something, or maybe sad? It only lasts a moment before Nick turns to fix their cuppas and starts chattering away, going on about his lazy morning and workout and then all the gossip he heard at work. He goes on and on about absolutely nothing, just like he always does, and Louis laughs at all the right places, but he has a hard time forgetting that fleeting moment. He’s sure he didn’t imagine it, but he can’t think for the life of him what Nick could have been sad about.

**DAY THREE**

Louis checks the time on his phone and tries to calculate how much longer he’ll have to wait in the dark until Nick gets home. Pig and Stinky sit on the floor, flanking Louis as he stews in the corner chair, mentally rehearsing his greeting. The dogs’ heads keep swiveling from him to the door, the poor loves confused but determined to guard him, and Louis makes a mental note to sneak them extra treats before bedtime. 

Finally, there’s a rustle at the front door and then the sound of Nick’s key in the lock. As Nick fumbles with the door, the dogs wriggle anxiously but remain where they are, looking to each other in apparent consultation over whether they should continue to guard Louis or go to greet Nick. Louis remains firmly seated, arms crossed over his chest. 

Louis has been accused of having a flair for the dramatic, more than once if he’s honest, but this is the first time he’s pulled this particular move. If only he’d thought to drag in his desk chair from the office so he could do that spin around move like a Bond villain or summat. It’s a missed opportunity, but anyway, he’s not the villain of this story. 

Nick is.

“Anyone home?” Nick’s voice calls from the front hall, accompanied by the sound of his bag hitting the floor and keys dropping in the dish on the table. “Lou? Piggy, Stink?”

Louis presses his lips in a firm line, fueled by the annoyance that’s been building all day. His phone buzzes in his pocket, most likely another meme from Niall in the work WhatsApp group, and Louis narrows his eyes at the door that Nick is surely about to walk through.

“Lou–” Nick flips on the light in the sitting room as he walks in and jumps at the sight of Louis (and the dogs) in the corner. He turns for a moment, clutching his chest, before laughing. “Christ, Louis, you almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing?”

“Hello, Nicholas,” Louis says through clenched teeth. “Welcome home, darling. How was your day?”

The dogs finally can’t stand it any longer and they both trot over to Nick, giving him an unusually subdued greeting. He leans down to pat their heads, eyes on Louis as the mirth fades from his face.

“Was alright,” he responds, hesitant. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, giving Louis a wide berth. Wise man. “How was yours?”

“Let me tell you about it,” Louis clips as he stands, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Remember this morning? I told you, ‘hm, love, not sure about that jumper,’ didn’t I? And what did you say?”

“I said, um,” Nick rakes a hand through his quiff, and Louis is momentarily distracted admiring the longish hair that Nick’s been threatening to buzz off lately. “Well, you said no one looks good in yellow, but that’s not true,  _ you _ do. So I said ‘you got it, you should flaunt it.’”

“Mm, yeah,” Louis murmurs as he swipes on his phone, holding it up to display the WhatsApp thread that’s been fast and furious at his expense all day. “And when you were picking this jumper – allegedly because I quote  _ look good in yellow _ – did you ever stop and think, ‘hm, better not, Louis might get shit over being Cedric Diggory’s twin all day? Maybe I should spare him?’”

“Who’s Ced–” Nick starts, squinting at Louis’ phone but not coming any closer. “Cedric what?”

“Off  _ Harry Potter,” _ Louis shouts, stepping closer to Nick and thrusting his phone in his face. “Look!”

Nick reaches out and takes Louis’ phone from him, scrolling up through the photos that have been pinging through all day. Louis watches him with his arms crossed over this chest, daring him to laugh. 

“Oh, his jumper,” Nick says lamely, looking up. “I haven’t seen the film, they’re all so bloody long–”

“Yes, his jumper,” Louis hisses, snatching his phone back. “Same black and yellow, same – what d’you call it? Color blocking?”

“You remembered,” Nick murmurs, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.  

“Yeah, I remembered,” Louis replies, letting his shoulders sag as the anger drains out of him at Nick’s soft expression. “Dunno, you were all excited about this one, so I suppose I actually listened when you went on about it.”

“Louis,” Nick coos, wrapping him up in a hug. “I’m sorry, love. I  _ was _ excited about it, I think you look dead sexy, I didn’t know I was dressing you up as a… Gryffindor?”

“Hufflepuff,” Louis corrects him, his voice muffled against Nick’s chest. He pulls away just enough to meet Nick’s eyes and shrug. “If I were Payno, I might have thought of it sooner, he’s the real fanboy. But I didn’t realize ’til I got to the office and Niall started shouting ‘Potter stinks!’ at me.”

“‘Potter stinks?’” Nick asks, furrowing his brow. “What’s that about?”

“Oh, don’t worry, love,” Louis says sweetly, cupping Nick’s chin in his hand. “I thought of a way for you to make it up to me. You’ll understand  _ exactly _ what it’s about soon.”

He pats Nick’s cheek a couple of times, grinning wickedly at Nick’s confused expression, and turns to walk over to the sofa. 

“Louis?” Nick asks, his voice not quite trembling but still nervous. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, Nicholas,” Louis replies smugly, “is that you are going to make it up to me by watching the film with me. Tonight. Right now.”

“Oh, well, alri–”

“Without your phone,” Louis finishes with a smirk.

“Louis,” Nick gasps, stricken. “Without my  _ phone? _ It was really that bad?”

“Well, love,” Louis says, patting the sofa next to him and beckoning for Nick to sit. “Niall made little Potter Stinks badges for everyone to wear, I’ve got one in my bag for you actually, so you tell me how bad it was.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick groans, taking the seat next to Louis on the sofa as the dogs settle over by the fireplace. He takes his phone out of his pocket and reluctantly hands it over. “How, um… how long is the film?”

“Not long,” Louis says innocently as he points the remote at the telly, pulling up the movie. “Could do with a Stella, mind grabbing me one? Some crisps, too?”

Louis can see the internal debate all over Nick’s face, but in the end he gets up to get snacks instead of squawking that Louis can get his own, like he normally would.

Smart lad. 

Nick walks back in, handing Louis the can of beer and setting a bag of crisps on the coffee table, just as the familiar (to Louis, anyway) music starts to swell. He settles in next to Louis, slinging an arm around him, and Louis cuddles in. 

This is going to be fun.

*

It is fun. It’s the most fun Louis’ had in ages. 

Straightaway, Nick starts making snake innuendos, waggling his eyebrows and refusing to stop. He yells things like “What scar? How can you even see one under that mop?” before returning to the matter he’s decided is at hand: working out who’s gay for each other. 

Nick’s answer: Everyone.

Louis declares that Nick doesn’t belong to any of the four houses, he would have gone to Beauxbatons instead. So Nick promptly gets up and attempts the choreography from when they entered the Great Hall, complete with exaggerated breathy “hm”s. Louis is in stitches, laughing until he cries, as the dogs look on like they’re mental.

Nick insists on referring to Snape as “the villain from Love Actually” and doesn’t even bother pretending to listen to Louis’ rant about film Dumbledore versus book Dumbledore, waving him off to concentrate on the pressing concern of which Weasley twin is more fit.

They keep breaking into laughter until Louis shoves at Nick’s shoulder and makes him pay attention to the scene with the Potter Stinks badges. Louis does allow him a long debate over whether Harry with gills and webbed feet is fuckable or not, letting it last until Cedric Diggory shows up in his identical jumper for the third and final task.

“They really are quite similar,” Nick remarks, his eyes on the telly. Louis stays silent and glares at Nick until he finally glances over. Once they make eye contact, Louis laughs.

“They are, you daft prick,” he retorts, snuggling closer and looking back to the telly. “Don’t know how Maison Margiela got away with copying off them, a right cheat, he is.”

“No, it’s a design house, not an actual–” Nick cuts himself off, looking at Louis in amazement. “You memorized the designer?”

“Like I said,” Louis murmurs, eyes determinedly on the film. “You seemed excited.”

Louis can feel Nick’s eyes on him as he pretends to watch the characters on screen navigate the maze. His cheeks heat up, and he turns to whine, “Ni–”

Nick cuts him off with a kiss, cupping his chin and tilting his head to get the angle he’s after before slipping his tongue in. Louis is frantic, almost wild with need right from the start, and judging by the way Nick is matching his fervor, he’s the same. They snog like teenagers, their hands roaming each other’s bodies, until a crash from the telly startles them apart.

“Bed?” Louis asks, panting, arching his brow.

“Bed,” Nick agrees, leaning in and giving him a cheeky snog. They break apart again, and Nick looks around the room. “I’ll take the doggies out for their wee and meet you there, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis agrees, adjusting himself in his trousers. He picks up the remote to stop the film; they have good timing, he can never stand to watch the scene when Harry returns from the graveyard.

“What happens to him, anyway?” Nick asks as he gets up and claps his hands at the dogs. “Your lad, Cedric?”

“Nevermind,” Louis says, waving him away. “Don’t care about the film anymore, do we?”

“Not particularly,” Nick answers as he walks across the room, trailed by the wriggling dogs. “Mostly just care about getting your kit off.”

“Funny,” Louis smirks as he gets up. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about all day.”

He scoots out the room laughing before Nick can protest and heads into their en suite, closing the door behind him. He has two options for when he’s done prepping; one, he could strut out with his kit off like he normally does. The other, possibly more intriguing, option is to keep the offending jumper on. In the end, the idea of Nick pulling it off him is too hard to resist, so he leaves his trousers and pants strewn across the bathroom floor but keeps the jumper on. Turning this way and that before the mirror, he sees that it doesn’t nearly hide the curve of his bum. 

Definitely the right call, then.

Nick’s lying in the middle of their bed, propped up by pillows with the duvet shoved down by his feet. The soft light from the lamps on each side of the bed falls over Nick’s bare skin, giving it a golden glow. Louis admires him quietly until Nick looks up from scrolling on his phone, taking in the way Louis leans against the doorframe, turned to the side so Nick can see his silhouette. If Louis had any doubt about leaving the jumper on, it’s gone when Nick licks his lips as he looks him up and down.

“Gonna come here, then?” Nick asks, his voice sunk to its lowest register. Louis would laugh if it weren’t so fucky sexy. 

But it is fucking sexy, so he nods and takes off running toward the bed, doing a flying leap onto it. He lands by Nick’s side, bouncing on the mattress, and they laugh for a moment before Nick hauls him into his lap. Louis gazes into Nick’s eyes, framed with ridiculous thick lashes, and shivers remembering what Nick had whispered in his ear yesterday about taking his time with Louis.

“What is it, pet?” Nick asks, running his hands over Louis’ thighs.

“Nothing bad,” Louis assures him, running a hand through Nick’s hair before meeting his eyes again. “Just want you, that’s all.”

“Oh, is that all?” Nick smirks. “That can be arranged.”

He cups the back of Louis’ head and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s like they pick up right where they left off on the sofa, all eager tongues and clacking teeth and hands grasping at each other. Just as Louis starts to get too warm in the jumper, Nick breaks the kiss and tugs lightly at the hem.

“Time for this to come off,” he murmurs into Louis’ skin. “Don’t you think, love?” 

And that’s the worst line Louis has ever heard, but fuck if it doesn’t work. He raises his arms over his head and gives Nick a coy look, biting his lip. Nick eyes him hungrily, and Louis expects him to whip the jumper off of him, but he gently lifts it up, slowly dragging the soft fabric along Louis’ skin and giving him goosebumps. When he finally, finally lifts the jumper all the way off, he tosses it to the side and focuses his dark eyes on Louis.

“Want you on your front, love,” Nick says, his tone gentle but firm, and he pats the meat of Louis’ arse. “Need to get my tongue on you.”

A flash of heat courses through Louis’ body and he scrambles off of Nick, turning to lie on his stomach. Nick reaches for the lube on his nightstand, setting it on the bed next to them before grabbing a pillow. He taps Louis’ hip and Louis lifts up for a moment for Nick the slide the pillow under him. 

Louis wraps his arms around the pillow in front of him, turning his head. Nick is sitting on his haunches behind him and admiring Louis’ arse. Louis almost never says it out loud, but he’s the one who doesn’t know how he ever managed to pull someone so fit. Nick should never think it’s the other way ’round.

“Nick,” he says, his voice coming out smaller and more tentative than he meant. “Can, um…”

“What is it, love?” Nick asks, leaning down and blanketing Louis’ body with his own, kissing his cheek. “Anything you want, darling, you know that.”

“It’s just, um,” Louis murmurs, hiding his face for a moment, suddenly shy. “Yesterday, you said…”

“Oh,” Nick says, understanding dawning on his face. “You want to bounce in my lap, then, don’t you, love? Just let me have a taste first, then I promise you can.”

Louis shudders, barely managing a nod before Nick sits back and gropes at his bum, parting the cheeks and darting his tongue over Louis’ hole. After a few kitten licks, Nick starts laving his tongue over him while he squeezes Louis’ arse with both large hands, the dual sensation heady. Louis starts writhing on the bed, trying to get some friction on his cock, but Nick’s strong hands hold him firmly in place. 

The room is quickly filled with progressively filthier sounds. Louis is quieter, soft gasps and hitching breath. Nick is louder, his moans reverberating through Louis’ body. Nick loving this just as much as he does, getting off on it just as much as he is, drives Louis wild; he can’t even think, all he can do is roll his hips to try and meet more of Nick’s tongue or the pillow below him, he’s not fussed. 

He cries out when Nick’s tongue slips into him, his cock starting to drip. Everything is blurry at the edges, he barely registers the sound of Nick popping the cap of the lube. The realization hits him when Nick slides a smooth, slick finger inside him, gently licking around it, keeping him wet. They’ve spent countless hours memorizing each other’s bodies, and it shows when Nick easily locates Louis’s spot, rubbing the pad of his fingertip over it and drawing louder and louder moans from him.

Nick teases him a bit, alternating between light and firm touches, before adding a second finger and scissoring them to stretch him. Louis whines, desperate to be fucked already, almost to the point of begging, but Nick shushes him, content to take his time and drive Louis mad.  

After what seems like ages, Nick finally pulls back and gives Louis’ arse a light smack.

“Alright, pet,” he says huskily, moving to sit against the headboard as Louis pants. He pats the top of his thighs. “Come on, then.”

It takes a moment for Louis’ hazy, lust-addled mind to catch up to Nick’s actions and words, but once it does, he scrambles to sit on Nick’s lap, leaning in for an open-mouthed kiss and moaning at the mix of spicy musk and bitter tang on his tongue. As Nick licks into his mouth, Louis feels almost weak, his body so pliant and relaxed that he might slide down to the bed if Nick weren’t holding him up. 

“Go on, darling,” Nick whispers into his ear before nipping at the lobe. “Take what you want.”

The bedroom is the one place where Louis gets a thrill from Nick taking charge, he’d cut his bollocks off if he tried it anywhere else, and his poor neglected cock twitches at Nick’s words. He gives Nick another messy kiss as he pats around the mattress for the lube. Nick is toying with him, trying to look unaffected, but he can’t stifle his moan when Louis slicks up his cock. He grips Louis’ hips tightly and tilts his head back, so Louis takes advantage, leaning in and licking a stripe up his gleaming throat.

Nick holds his cock at the base and Louis positions himself over it before slowly lowering his body. Once Nick’s cockhead slips through the loosened ring of muscle, it’s fairly easy for Louis to slowly slide down after the time Nick took prepping him. When he’s fully seated, Louis rocks back and forth a few times as he adjusts to the overwhelming feeling of being full. 

Nick sits back, unabashedly ogling Louis’ body, by now glistening with sweat, running his hands up and down Louis’ thighs again. His breath catches and the smirk is wiped off his face when Louis lifts up and fucks back down, gradually building up his pace. 

Louis knows he looks good, knows Nick knows he looks good, and he revels in Nick’s eyes on him as he undulates his hips. He closes his eyes and throws his head back as he bounces on Nick’s cock, chasing his pleasure in earnest now. 

“F-fuck,  _ Nick,” _ Louis moans when Nick thrusts up to meet him, hitting his spot. Louis clings weakly to Nick’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Nick, please!  _ Fuck  _ me!”

“I’ve got you, love,” Nick assures him, gripping Louis’ arse and running his fingertips over where their bodies are joined before thrusting up again.

He fucks Louis thoroughly, holding him close and hitting his prostate more often than not, until Louis is close, so fucking close, that it only takes a few jerks of his hand on his cock before he’s coming in thick pulses, his mind whiting out as he rides the wave of pleasure. Nick fucks him through it, coming only a couple of minutes later, clutching onto Louis for dear life. 

Louis eases off of Nick and falls to the bed next to him. Nick tangles their hands together as they both try to catch their breath. Luckily his arms are stupidly long, so he manages to grab a water bottle from his nightstand without disturbing Louis or letting go, handing the bottle over when he sees Louis making a grabby hand for it and letting him drink first. After Louis hands it back, Nick drains the rest and turns on his side, leaning on his elbow to look down at Louis, who’s a bit sticky, completely knackered, and very, very happy.

“You’re a good shag, you are,” Nick says as he leans in for a kiss. He catches the side of Louis’ mouth as Louis cackles at the remark.

“Aye, mate,” he giggles, his body loose and relaxed, melting against the mattress. “Not so bad yourself.”

“And that arse,” Nick shakes his head, dropping Louis’ hand to reach under him and grope his bum. “Fuck me.”

“Already did,” Louis yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “Was brilliant.”

Nick smiles softly down at him, brushing his sweaty fringe off his forehead. 

“You were actually upset today,” he says, his tone gentle but serious. “Weren’t you?”

Louis throws a hand over his eyes. “Can’t just let a man enjoy his afterglow, can you?”

“I’m serious, Louis,” Nick says softly, poking at his hand. “Tell me. Please?”

“Well, yeah,” Louis mutters. He moves his hand from his face but shifts a little away from Nick on the bed to show his annoyance at their ruined moment. 

“How come?” Nick asks. 

Just Louis’ luck he ended up with a partner as stubborn as he is.

“Just…” Louis searches for the right words. “We all like a bit of banter, right? But I just… didn’t feel like being teased about it, that’s all.”

Nick smooths his hand over Louis’ tummy, one of his favorites parts of Louis’ body, and hums, waiting for him to continue. Louis scrubs a hand over his face, wishing Nick would drop it and knowing he won’t.

“It just felt like…” Louis struggles to put it to words, always a bit stupid after coming but mostly drained from the long day. “Well, for one, you were excited. It was… fuck, it was sweet, alright? I liked it. And I can talk shit and take the piss out of you, but I don’t like it when anyone else does, really. You know?”

“Yeah, love,” Nick says softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m the same way, you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Bolstered by the thought, Louis shuffles a tiny bit closer back to Nick.

“And it kinda made me feel like if this is what I get for trying,” Louis’ voice cracks as the words tumble out but he manages not to do anything really embarrassing like cry. “Well, why even bother? It’s stupid, I know it’s stupid, it’s just a fucking jumper–”

“It’s not stupid,” Nick interrupts. “It’s not, love. I get it.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, biting his lip. Fuck, he’s pathetic.

“Yeah,” Nick says firmly. “Fuck the lot of them.”

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, relieved that Nick broke the tension for him. 

“Well, I mean,” he starts, smiling at Nick’s offended-on-Louis’-behalf face. “Niall probably would have stopped if I told him it was really bothering me. We all take the piss out of each other, I don’t think he meant anything.”

Louis shifts uncomfortably as a drop of lube slides down his thigh. Nick catches it with his finger.

“D’you want to talk about your shit day?” he asks, wiping his finger on his own thigh. “Or would you rather go shower with your devilishly handsome boyfriend?”

“Shower, please,” Louis replies immediately, flooded with relief. He can’t bear this raw vulnerability any longer. “You’ll wash me up?”

“’Course, love,” Nick says smugly. “After all, I’m the one that got all you all dirty, aren’t I?” 

Louis cackles and chases him into the en suite. As Nick turns the shower on and Louis squeezes toothpaste onto their toothbrushes so they can clean their teeth, he makes a mental note to get to work early and paper Harry’s cubicles with printouts of Liam’s broodiest bed selfies from Instagram to get back at him for this stupid assignment. 

Though knowing Harry, he might actually appreciate that.

**DAY FOUR**

“Tommo,” Liam says, looking around the walls of Harry’s cubicle in bewilderment. “Where’d you even get all these?”

Louis takes a bow in front of the small crowd that’s gathered, word of his prank having spread through the office like wildfire. It had been well worth the effort and takeaway cuppa it had taken him to get to the office early that morning. Every inch of Harry’s workspace, from the walls (obvious) to his desk (less obvious) down to his chair (downright ingenious) have been papered or wrapped in printouts from Liam’s Instagram. Payno’s a good lad, but he does love a thirst trap; it’s his own fault really. 

“I keep a folder on my laptop,” Louis explains as Zayn claps him on the back. “Knew it would come in handy.”

“I wish I could keep it like this,” Harry says dreamily, running a finger over one where Liam’s doing yoga topless. Hipster. “James would have a fit, though.”

“What I don’t understand,” Jesy says, waving a hand at Louis’ handiwork as Jade giggles beside her. “Is how this is meant to be a prank on Harry? It’s Liam that’s blushing.” 

“She’s got you there, Tommo,” Niall says, as Zayn nods in agreement. “You got the wrong man.”

“I don’t even work here,” Liam hisses, thrusting his guest pass at Louis as a few people walk by, tittering. “Harry’s the one–”

“Harry’s the one who works here,” Harry interrupts, clapping a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. “And whilst  _ he _ loves it, HR won’t, so get your photos in now before we take it down.”

Niall pulls Louis in for a selfie, so he sticks his tongue out and throws up a middle finger for him. They do a group one after that; no one says no to Niall when he’s got his camera phone out, not even an embarrassed Liam. Having properly documented the scene, Niall and the girls drift back to their own desks and Harry and Liam look at Louis expectantly as Zayn watches on with barely concealed glee.

“Well, I’m off lads,” Louis says airily. “Got a freelancer coming in for a meeting.”

“Louis,” Harry says sternly. “You’re really not going to help?”

“’S alright, love,” Liam shushes him with a kiss to the cheek. “If Tommo’s got a meeting, he’s got a meeting. I’ll help.”

“Thanks, lad,” Louis laughs. “Good sport, aren’t you?”

“Anyway,” Liam continues, as though Louis hasn’t spoken. “He’s probably just acting out ’cause Grimmy put him in a mesh shirt today.”

Liam turns to him, eyes wide and mouth in an ‘o’ shape as he mimes dropping a mic, and it’s cute, adorable really, that he’s trying to drag Louis, it really is. Zayn and Harry swivel their heads toward Louis, awaiting his clapback.

“It’s open knit, Payno,” Louis explains, fingering the collar of the white polo shirt that he has tucked into his trousers. Simple trackies today, but Louis had almost choked when he’d seen the Gucci label. “It’s not see through, you can’t see my nips or anything.”

“Well, it looks like mesh,” Liam insists, pointing to the general area of Louis’ nipples, something Louis isn’t quite sure he’s comfortable with. “And I can’t see them, but I knew they’re there.”

Louis is about to show Liam how to properly drag someone, he really is – like it’s hard to know where people have nipples, honestly – when Perrie rushes up to him.

“Louis, why aren’t you answering your texts?” she demands, hand on her khaki-clad hip. “Gillian and I are done talking through her Fashion assignments, she’s waiting for you in the Meghan conference room.”

“Thanks, love,” he replies, patting her shoulder. “Sorry, was just fucking with Liam here. Say, you look–”

Louis eyes Perrie up and down, taking in her posh fitted blazer. It’s a bit of whiplash from the denim the other day, and her outfit actually reminds him of how Harry used to dress when they first met.

“Smashing,” he finishes with a smile. “You pull that off, love.”

“Thanks,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “But you don’t need to fluff me up. This is what I get for not cleaning out my closet in the last ten years.”

She hurries off with a wave and Louis turns back to the lads.

“I’ll get you a pint Saturday at the pub,” he offers, very graciously if he does say so himself. 

“He’s nothing if not gracious, yeah, lads?” Zayn smirks. 

“Go on, Lou,” Harry waves him off. “Liam and I have got this, you’d just rip all the paper anyway and I want to keep them.”

“Creepy!” Louis laughs, turning to jog lightly down the hall. He has to grab his laptop and walk to the other side of the floor, and he’s already late. As usual. 

“See you Saturday!” Liam calls after him. “I won’t forget about the pint!”

“Like this one, Tommo,” Zayn comments as he hastens to walk with him. “You look smart. Nick’s not half bad at this.”

Louis shoots him a withering look.

“He dressed me as a Harry Potter character just yesterday, in fact,” Louis replies, dripping as much sarcasm as he can. He snags his laptop from his desk, and they continue down the hall. “But thanks. He tried to get me in a jumper with a red and white lightning bolt on this morning, can you believe that?”

“Yeah, actually,” Zayn laughs. “Too soon, huh?”

“Yeah, way too soon,” Louis retorts, slowing his pace as they approach his meeting room. He eyes Zayn’s Day Four look, head-to-toe black with his cardigan half unzipped as though he’d dressed himself, but there’s one detail that gives away the fact that Gigi picked this out. “Say, what’s wrong with your jumper, lad? Zipper’s upside down.”

“It’s supposed to be, mate,” Zayn shrugs. “Fashion.” 

“Fashion,” Louis laughs. He shakes his head. “Later, Z.”

Gillian is waiting in one of their smaller conference rooms, recently renamed for the country’s new favorite duchess, patiently scrolling on her phone as she waits.

“Hiya, love,” Louis greets her, setting his laptop down and giving her a hug. She’s Nick’s friend, has been part of his inner circle for years, but she’s always been lovely to Louis, in and out of the office. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” she replies, giving him a good squeeze. She steps back and puts her hands on his shoulders. “Look at you! Your Instagram doesn’t do you justice, Louis, you look well fit.”

“Ah, thanks, love, yeah,” Louis says, brushing his fringe of his forehead as they separate and take their seats. “This one’s alright, innit?”

“I love it,” Gillian says simply. “Can’t believe you have that lying around in your closet and never wear it.” She wags a finger at him. “Shame, Louis. Shame.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis laughs. He pulls up the haphazard spreadsheet where he (mostly) tracks freelancer assignments. “Down to business, shall we? Now, what have you got for me? And please don’t say crystals.”

*

The hour passes before Louis knows it, the conversation flowing freely and resulting in a few weeks’ worth of work for Gillian. They agree on a piece from Louis’ list, and then Gillian pitches several ideas that Louis knows will be a perfect fit. Jesy will pleased when Louis fills her in; Gillian is one of her favorite writers to edit, too.

“Alright, then,” Gillian announces, winding a scarf around her neck. “I’m off. Walk me out?”

“Yeah, love,” Louis replies, gathering his things. “’Course.”

He holds the glass door open for her and follows her out of the conference room. 

“So,” Gillian says breezily but without making eye contact, a good sign their conversation is about to take a decidedly un-breezy turn. “Grim’s a bit worried about you. Has been for awhile.”

“Worried?” Louis scoffs, matching her slow stride down the hallway. “What about?”

“He says you’re not letting him in lately,” she says slowly, considering her words. She glances over at Louis. “Little things, like you don’t tell him about your day, stuff like that.”

Louis lets her words settle in for a moment. A nagging voice at the back of his mind insists that she has a point, no matter how much he wants to brush this conversation off, tell her everything is fine. The memory of the night before, of Nick pleading for Louis to talk about his shit day, combined with the genuine concern on Gillian’s face convince him to tug her to side of the hallway.

“He really said that? I’m not letting him in?” Louis asks, dropping his voice, and wincing when she nods. 

“Listen,” Gillian says, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m bang out of order, I know. But Grimmy’s one of my best mates, yeah? And I think maybe he thinks you’re pushing him away.”

“I’m not trying to,” Louis say, blowing out a breath. And here he thought the deepest thing they were going to talk about today was fucking crystals. “But… listen, Gellz, he doesn’t need to be  _ worried. _ I just… I’m not exactly setting the world on fire here in the Lifestyle section, am I? And I can’t keep whingeing on about the same petty bullshit every night.”

“You know Grim,” Gillian says with a wry smile. “The pettier, the better.”

“You know what I mean–”

“No, I do,” Gillian interrupts, looking him dead in the eye. “But Louis, if Nick was complaining about the same thing every night, you wouldn’t care, would you? The same person or the same problem or whatever. You wouldn’t be, I don’t know, judging him or anything, right?”

“Right,” Louis concedes, even though he knows she’s setting a logic trap for him. Because it’s true, he wouldn’t care. 

“So, that’s how he feels about you,” she finishes, poking him in the chest with her finger. “Go on, bore him with the details of your day tonight, yeah? Except maybe this part?”

She raises her eyes hopefully at him as the bell chimes and the lift doors open across the hallway. 

“Yeah, love,” Louis nods, opening his arms for a quick hug. “I will, promise.”

“Bye, Louis!” she calls as she dashes into the lift, leaning over to push the button. “Love you!”

The doors close before he can say anything and he’s left standing in the hallway, mulling over Gillian’s words. The image of Nick’s pinched expression from the other night comes to mind; in hindsight, that was right as Louis said he didn’t want to talk about his day and asked about Nick’s instead. Must be the kind of thing he confided in Gillian about, then. 

If there’s one thing Louis can’t stand, it’s feeling sorry for himself. And after a few months in this job, that’s what talking about his day had started to become, endlessly complaining about the same things he couldn’t do anything about. He’d never meant to shut Nick out, he just… hates being that person. But if Nick wants to hear about his petty bullshit, that can be arranged. 

And, as Louis turns to head down the hallway, a plan clicks into place. 

*

The security guard on duty at the Beeb is one who recognizes Louis from when he used to drop by more frequently, so he gets his guest pass sorted without having to call up to Nick and ruin the surprise. He takes the lift up and winds his way through the halls, nodding and waving to the people he’s met before. Fiona’s on the phone, but she throws him a nice wink and Louis continues on his way laughing.

Louis had been late leaving work, so he was late to the gym, and then late to stop at home and check on the dogs. So he catches Nick on his way out of the studio, practically bumping right into him since Nick is doing that thing where he records his own legs as he walks for Instagram. Wanker. 

“Hiya, love,” Nick says softly, pocketing his phone. “What are you going here?”

“Thought I might surprise my boyfriend,” Louis says with a cheeky smile. “Have you seen him?”

“Oi,” Nick says without any bite to it. He pulls Louis into a hug and keeps him close, swaying a couple of time before he releases him. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Seriously, I’m here to surprise my boyfriend,” Louis replies, taking Nick’s hand in his and pulling him toward the lift. “Thought we could stop for a drink on the way home. Didn’t want to waste this outfit on the doggies, yeah?”

The corners of Nick’s mouth twitch and stretch slowly as he takes in Louis’ words and his grin is a bit manic by the time the lift doors open and Louis pulls him inside.

“It’s a good outfit,” Nick agrees, pulling his phone out and snapping a selfie before Louis can protest. He does hold up the photo for approval before adding it to his Story, though. “You look better than I do, those trainers put me and my Birkenstocks to shame.”

“I still say they’re too new looking,” Louis remarks, looking down at his bright white trainers. “Can’t believe you forbid me from scuffing ’em up a bit.”

“No, they’re perfect,” Nick replies, tapping away at his phone. “Don’t you dare.”

“Saw Liam today,” Louis says off-handedly, knowing that Nick’s phone has most of his attention for the moment. “He tried to tell me this shirt was mesh.”

Nick looks up at that agape. “Did you tell him it’s open knit?”

“I did.” Louis nods. “You would’ve been proud.” 

They laugh as Louis takes Nick’s hand again when the lift doors open and tugs him along, Nick’s eyes back on his phone. He tears them away to wave to the security guard and then he huddles closer to Louis once they’re out in the brisk night air.

“Just wander ’til we find a place, then?” he asks. “Think you’d like this one pub, down a bit that way.”

“Lead on,” Louis says, pushing at the fanny pack across Nick’s chest so he doesn’t lean against it as he fits himself under Nick’s arm. “I trust you.”

“Well, that’s a different tune,” Nick mutters. Louis pinches his side and he jumps. “Oi, I didn’t mean it! Obviously. I knew you’d put up a fight about the outfits this week, but I also knew I knew better.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis shakes his head. “Anyway, I meant to get there earlier, see you and Annie finish up, but James caught me on my way out of the office.”

“Yeah?” Nick asks, eyebrows raised. “What’d he want, then?”

“That article I turned in Friday finally went up today,” Louis says, letting Nick lead as he turns them down a corner. “Did I tell you about that one?”

“No,” Nick responds with a small smile. “No, I don’t you think did.”

“Was one of the better ones, 11 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Your Demisexual Friend,” Louis explains, heart warmed by Nick’s expression. He’s interested, even looks a bit touched. This actually does mean something to him, Louis sharing his day, then. “James was really pleased with the amount of hits, and apparently the comment section wasn’t a trash fire.”

“Put a tick in the pro column for humanity, then,” Nick says, squeezing Louis’ shoulder. “Did you check tumblr? Sounds like that would get a lot of notes.”

“Nah, didn’t think of it,” Louis replies. “Was in a rush, knew I wanted to see you.”

“We can look at the pub,” Nick says happily. “What, erm… anything else happen today?”

“Yeah, actually,” Louis answers, starting to shiver in the cold. “Got to terrorize Liam, Gellz came in for a meeting. Was an alright day, but if I have to edit one more piece about the zodiac, I’m going to scream.”

“Ah,” Nick says sagely, “just like a Capricorn.”

“Piss off,” Louis laughs. “Is that true?”

“Dunno,” Nick grins, “but it sounded good, yeah?”

“It did,” Louis agrees. “Hurry up, love, I’ll tell you the rest when we get inside, freezing my bollocks off out here.”

“Yeah,” Nick whispers, close to his ear before he kisses Louis’ windswept hair. “That sounds nice, love. Perfect, really.”

And now that Louis’ here, with Nick, about to have a pint in the warmth of a pub he thinks Louis will like, it is a bit perfect, actually. 

**DAY FIVE**

The dimly lit restaurant is packed to the gills and abuzz with polite but disingenuous small talk. Extravagant floral arrangements hang from the ceiling above the crowd as waiters discreetly pass trays of finger food and signature cocktails. Louis squares his shoulders and holds his head high as he weaves through the throng, trying to find his boyfriend. These posh wankers can probably smell fear, and he’ll be damned if he gives them the satisfaction. 

Nick had carefully dressed him for the event, fussing over Louis’ plain black trousers, white turtleneck and – the piece de resistance – Valentino bomber jacket. The pattern on the jacket is sick actually, kind of an optical illusion of Vs and upside-down Vs, and there’s a couple of thin burgundy stripes up the front on one side. If anything, though, the designer clothes make Louis feel like he sticks out more, like he’s an imposter trying to blend in.

He couldn’t give a fuck about impressing these people, he’s only there to play the supportive boyfriend. But as he searches high and low for said boyfriend, one thought keeps gnawing at him, the sinking suspicion that Nick had dressed him up not so that Louis would feel more comfortable at the event, but so that Nick would feel more comfortable with Louis at the event. Maybe this assignment is starting to fuck with his head. Or maybe Nick would rather have a boyfriend who actually cares if his trackies have a designer label or not, who doesn’t wear the same thing to work every day like it’s a uniform, who–

_ “There _ you are, darling!” 

A gregarious Nick throws his arm around Louis’ shoulder and plants a sloppy kiss to his cheek. About three of those signature cocktails in, then. 

“Nicholas,” he greets him with a tight smile. “Enjoying yourself, are you?”

“I’ve been bored to tears without you, love,” Nick says lowly into his ear. “But ’s not that bad for a work do.”

Ah, maybe only two drinks in. 

“Come on, love,” Nick says, smoothing down Louis’ jacket. “You look gorgeous, I want to show you off.”

It’s a joke, a throwaway comment the likes of which Nick has made countless times. It doesn’t mean anything. Although Nick has always been more successful than Louis, he’s never been mean about it and Louis is no man’s trophy wife. But as Nick walks Louis around the room like a prize he’s won, showing off his designer jacket and pushing his CV on people without registering the blank look on their faces or the disinterest in their eyes, Louis’ resentment slowly simmers to a boil. 

It’s not on to air their dirty laundry in front of an innocent driver, so Louis bites his tongue in the car, quietly seething in his seat. Nick doesn’t seem to pick up on his mood, focusing on playing the right tracks off his phone as he records the passing scenery for his Instagram Stories. They head into the house after calling their thanks to the driver, Nick’s cheery and Louis’ rather sullen, only to be immediately besieged by the doggies, thrilled to have them home. 

Louis gets a glass of water in the kitchen and heads to the bedroom, sitting on their bed and draining his glass as he stews. When Nick finally prances in after getting the dogs settled, Louis finally explodes.  

“What the fuck,” he starts slowly, emphasizing each word, “was all that about tonight?”

Nick stops in his tracks, eyes wide, hands frozen in place where he’d started unbuttoning his blouse. Louis raises his eyebrows, waiting, as Nick gapes at him and he swears his blood pressure actually rises at the audacity of his boyfriend to be surprised. He gets up and stalks over to his nightstand, setting his glass down so he doesn’t do something stupid like throw it across the room.

Nick is still staring at him helplessly.

“Are you  _ really,” _ Louis continues, clasping his hands to stop them shaking, “going to act like you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“I don’t,” Nick says carefully, his hands slightly raised as he approaches Louis, as if he’s a caged wild animal or summat. “I know it was a boring work do, but we had a dead nice time, didn’t we? And you look–”

“Don’t you dare,” Louis says lowly, plucking the lapels of his jacket, the designer of which even he’s heard of, “fucking tell me how I look.”

If he has to spend one more minute in this jacket that cost at least half his paycheck, he’s going to scream so he rips it off and throws it at Nick.

“You like this jacket,” Nick protests. He gingerly picks it up from the floor in front of him and dusts it off. “You told me when we bought it that you liked it.”

“It’s not about the jacket!” Louis throws his hands up. He’s going to tear his own hair out, he really is. “Are you really that thick?”

Nick furrows his brow and crosses his arms. Good, Louis is getting to him. 

“Apparently I am,” Nick sighs. “Explain it to me, why don’t you? If it’s not the jacket, then what the fuck is it about?”

“It’s the fact that I embarrass you,” Louis retorts, ignoring Nick’s gasp to barrel on. “I couldn’t give a fuck what those people think of me, but  _ you _ care about what they think of me–”

“What the fuck, Louis?” Nick demands. “What are you on about, I don’t–”

“You treated me like I was a little boyfriend doll tonight!” Louis shouts. “Dressed me up so no one would notice that I don’t make enough money to get through the door normally–” 

“I didn’t schedule that event for this week, Louis,” Nick interrupts, getting red in the face. “And it’s  _ your _ work assignment, I didn’t plan any of this! Yes, I put you in a nice jacket; sue me, I wanted you to feel comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” Louis mocks. “It was so  _ you _ would feel comfortable with me hanging on your arm!”

“Where is this coming from?” Nick tosses the jacket on the bed finally. “What the fuck are we arguing about? I thought we had a nice time!”

“You thought I had a ‘nice time,’” Louis parrots, doing air quotes even though he knows Nick hates it. Because he knows Nick hates it. “When you were dragging me around to each and every phony there to push my work experience on them? It was humiliating, Nick!”

“It’s called networking! Everyone networks,” Nick explains, his raised voice belying his rational words. “It’s how things are done.” 

“It was humiliating,” Louis repeats. “Having to stand there while you talked me up in front of  a bunch of arseholes who couldn’t give a fuck about me, wouldn’t give me a second glance if I weren’t in a Valentino jacket.” 

“You have to talk to a lot of arseholes before you find the right one, love,” Nick says patiently. “’S like dating, innit?”

Louis’ blood boils; he’s not a child incapable of understanding how the world works. 

“Since fucking when,” Louis starts, rushing to continue as his voice cracks, “am I not good enough for you? My clothes aren’t good enough, my job isn’t good enough. Are you… are you ashamed of me?”

There’s one terrible beat of silence as the question hangs in the air between them. All of the fight goes out of Louis as the niggling fear that’s probably been there since the beginning, that’s been building all week, is out there, in the open.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Nick says, stepping into Louis’ face and lifting his chin with his finger. Louis reluctantly meets his eyes. “I don’t want  _ you _ to be ashamed of you.”

The soft, simple words cut right to Louis’ core and he sags against Nick, nuzzling his face in his throat.

“Come on, love,” Nick whispers, patting his hair. “Let’s sit down, yeah?”

Louis lets Nick lead him to the bed, where they sit side by side. Nick takes one of Louis’ still shaking hands in his and toys with his fingers.

“Have I ever told you what I love most about you?” Nick asks lightly. Louis shakes his head. “I love how you never let anything stop you, you’ve always just said ‘fuck ’em,’ and kept at it, no matter what.” 

Shame washes over Louis and he squeezes his eyes shut. That doesn’t sound much like him lately. 

“Don’t tell anyone I got this soppy,” Nick says conspiratorially. “Would ruin my reputation. But you’re like the sun, Louis. People are drawn to you, you have this light about you. But the past few months, it’s like… like you’ve been hiding away?”

Louis lets out a shaky breath and nods to let Nick know it’s okay to continue.

“I know the Lifestyle section isn’t where you want to be,” Nick explains. “It’s not that it’s not good enough for me, it’s not good enough for you. And I don’t care how much money you make, I want you to be happy. And you’re not happy. You’re not saying ‘fuck ’em’ and figuring it out like you normally do, you’re just… in a slump about it.”

Nick is right. Louis knows that Nick is right. He’s been covering it up with a plaster, and now Nick is ripping it off and exposing him, leaving him raw.

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you about it first,” Nick confesses. “But the work do was a good opportunity for you to network, and I didn’t think you’d be up for it, so I kind of… decided to do it for you.”

“I was so embarrassed, Nick,” Louis breathes, letting a tear spill over. He scrubs a hand over face. “I couldn’t stand it.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Nick says softly, kissing his temple. “I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again. But there’s things you can do, things I can help with, and it’s killing me to see you just give up.”

“Like what?” Louis asks in a small voice. “And don’t say a blog or a podcast. I can’t do one properly, I’m too drained after working all day. I don’t have enough – what d’you call it? Bandwidth.”

“Okay,” Nick says eagerly, sitting a little straighter now that Louis is taking him seriously. “Okay, no blog, no podcast. But you could start actually using your social media, for one. You let that blue check mark go to waste, love.”

Louis winces. He should have expected that.

“I’m only verified because people know I’m Grimmy’s boyfriend,” Louis explains, squeezing Nick’s hand to soften his words. He still looks as though Louis has slapped him across the face, though. “I don’t want anything I haven’t earned, alright?”

Nick lets out a breath and they sit in silence for a couple of minutes.

“That’s not true,” Nick says finally, raising his hand when Louis opens his mouth to protest. “Or at least, not entirely true, alright? Loads of your coworkers are verified and none of them are my boyfriend, yeah?” 

Louis nods. 

“It doesn’t matter how you got your followers,” Nick continues. “It matters how you keep them, yeah? I’m just saying you should talk about what tracks you’re listening to, post about shows you go to. You might even enjoy it. And an  _ engaged _ social media following that size is a real selling point if –  _ when _ – you start applying to other places. I know you know that’s something you’ll have to think about eventually.”

He hates to admit it, but Nick has a point. A few, in fact. 

“You should be sharing links to your articles, anyway,” Nick says. “So tweet the music ones you like too, yeah? And you should pitch articles to Ed, he’s a good lad, right? Might even work out a way for you to write a couple.”

And that’s… actually that’s brilliant. 

“Start small, yeah?” Nick nudges Louis’ shoulder. “I’m not saying you have to up end everything tonight. And if you don’t want my help networking, that’s fine, I won’t do it again. But just… do something. Not for me, for you. Please, love?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers. “Yeah, alright.”

Nick pulls Louis in for a hug, wrapping his stupid long arms around him, and Louis lets out a sob. He’s fucking knackered, has been for months, and he lets the emotion of the night get the best of him. Nick rubs his back and lets him cry for a few minutes, whispering, “shh, love, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” in his ear. By the time Louis pulls back, wiping his face, his whole body feels lighter, loose and relaxed.

“Thought you said no soul searching,” Louis sniffles. “No tears.”

Nick throws his head back and cackles, pulling Louis back into him. Louis laughs against Nick’s chest, the last of his tears wetting Nick’s thick rug of chest hair. He shivers and yelps, and they laugh even harder, clinging to each other to remain upright. 

“Nick...” Louis searches for the right words when their laughter dies down. “I just… I’m sorry for being an arsehole tonight. For a long time, probably.”

“No, love,” Nick assures him. “No, that’s not–”

“I love you,” Louis interrupts. “I know that’s not what you meant, but just let me apologize, yeah?”

“I love you, too,” Nick replies, his eyes sparkling. “I love you so much, darling. I just want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” Louis whispers, poking Nick’s cheek. “I love you a stupid amount, I really do.”

“I love you, smushie,” Nick coos, kissing all over Louis’ face. “Yes, I do, yes, I do.”

“Shurrup,” Louis protests weakly against Nick’s skin. “Worse than Harry and Liam, you are.”

“Alright, love,” Nick laughs. “Come on, you must be knackered, let’s get ready for bed.” 

Louis is knackered, so he follows Nick into the en suite, deciding to steal some of his fancy products to wash his face. Maybe he’ll just end up  _ Queer Eye _ ing himself, then.

**DAY SIX**

“Definitely working from home today,” Louis declares as he examines his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His skin is pale aside from the dark circles under his eyes, which are are puffy from crying the night before, and he has no energy to shower so his hair’s a bit stale.  

Nick finishes cleaning his teeth, spitting out a mouthful of spit and toothpaste. After he rinses his face, he dabs at it with a hand towel, meeting Louis’ eyes in the mirror.

“Tired, love?” 

“Yeah,” Louis yawns, stretching his arms over his head. “Slept like a log, but I’m still knackered, feel like I’m getting over being ill or summat.”

“Here,” Nick says, picking up a small jar of cream and handing it to Louis. “Use some of this, just a little under your eyes, yeah? I’ve got some rearranging to do, got to pick out a work-from-home outfit.”

He kisses the top of Louis’ head and heads to the bedroom, leaving Louis to wash his face and smear on expensive eye cream all by himself. He washes his hands when he’s done and then ruffles up his hair, already feeling a bit more human. 

Still working from home, though.

He taps out an email on his phone as he wanders into the bedroom, letting Jesy and a few other people know about his plans. Once he hits send, he looks up to see Nick eyeing clothes laid out on the bed critically, plucking something red up and swapping it for a denim jacket. 

“What’ve you got for me today, then?” Louis asks as he walks up to Nick’s side, his curiosity piqued.

“An exquisite selection for you today, sir,” Nick replies, waving his hand with a flourish. “Trackies paired with a Gosha Rubchinskiy x Adidas jumper, topped off with a classic Tommy denim jacket, if it pleases you.”

And the thing is, the outfit laid out for him does actually please Louis. He doesn’t bother trying to fight the smile as he fingers the hem of the grey jumper.

“I bought this,” he says quietly, almost to himself. He glances up at Nick. “I bought this one, like… six months ago? Thought the pattern was sick.”

“It is rather sick,” Nick agrees easily. “Go on then, get dressed. I’ll make a cuppa, alright?”

“Alright,” Louis replies, setting his phone down. He calls after Nick, “You’ll take a photo downstairs?”

“Yeah, love,” Nick’s voice floats back to him from the hall. “Meet me in the kitchen!”

Louis takes off the ratty t-shirt and pants that he’d slept in (and, if he’s honest, probably would have spent the day lounging in if it weren’t for the let your boyfriend dress you assignment), and grabs a new pair of pants from his dresser. He hates socks, always has, but he grabs a pair of those as well, not wanting to catch a chill. He gets dressed quickly, checking out his reflection in Nick’s full-length mirror. He turns this way and that, admiring the casual but put together outfit. 

He looks good, if he does say so himself. 

Grabbing his phone, Louis heads out of the bedroom to find his boyfriend and his cuppa, wanting both in equal measure. He follows the sound of Radio 1 blaring from Nick’s beat up, old radio in the kitchen, deciding to sneak up on his boyfriend. He tiptoes into the room behind him, smothering a laugh at Nick swaying his hips to the beat of the music, and reaches out to grab said hips. 

Nick jumps in the air, whipping around and laughing.

“Well, someone is chipper this morning,” he grins, pulling Louis close. 

“Yeah, ’s almost like I got a weight off my chest or summat,” Louis grins back, looking up through his lashes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re stupidly tall?”

“At least once a week for oh,” Nick pretends to think, tapping his chin, “the last three years.”

“And these legs, hm,” Louis continues, looking down at Nick’s long, shapely legs, pale and a bit hairy and utterly wonderful. “What business have they got being that long?”

“Dunno,” Nick shrugs, letting his hands drift to cup Louis’ bum. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing now,” Louis answers, laughing as he wiggles out of Nick’s grip. He grabs his mug and sits at the island. “Might be up for doing something about it later, though. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where I might get a cheese toastie this time of day, would you?”

Nick rolls his eyes but smiles and turns to make Louis’ breakfast as Louis sips his perfectly brewed tea. He may be a little stuck professionally at the moment, but Louis really is a lucky bastard.

They eat breakfast together, humming along to the radio, and Louis adds a video of Nick chair dancing to a Rita Ora track to his Stories, captioning it OHMAGOD BABES and tagging her at his insistence. The next track is a new one from Jorja Smith that Louis really likes, so he taps out a quick tweet shouting it out, trying not to overthink Nick’s advice from the night before. 

When they’re done eating, they do a quick photoshoot and Louis writes his Day Six caption with only a little assistance from Nick. He might not have needed any help, but “Gosha Rubchinskiy” is a tricky one to remember after all.

“Alright, love,” Nick announces once he’s done, “I’ve got to be off, got a session with Georgie. Think she’s making me go for a run today, gonna go get ready.”

“Alright,” Louis replies. He picks up their dishes and walks over to the sink. “I’ll be in the office, give me a shout when you’re back?”

“Yeah, alright,” Nick calls over his shoulder. “I’ll bring back something for lunch. Bye bye bye bye.”

Louis shakes his head and laughs, picking up his laptop bag and heading into the small office. He boots up his laptop and selects a playlist, getting to work on editing several pieces that should go up today. He’s so in the zone that he doesn’t hear Nick get back, jumping in his chair when Nick pokes his head in and announces lunch is ready in the kitchen. 

Nick pokes at a limp salad as Louis wolfs down his burger. The dogs dance around their feet, but Nick doesn’t allow Louis to feed them people food. He pretends not to notice when Louis sneaks them bites anyway and they chat about Nick’s workout and the dreadful piece about mindfulness that Louis had struggled to stay awake through to edit. 

“I’m off,” Nick declares, pushing his mostly eaten salad away. “I’m gonna hop in the shower, then I’ll probably just watch something upstairs. Come find me when you take a break, yeah?”

“Yeah, love,” Louis replies, giving Nick a quick kiss before he turns to head for the hallway. He calls after him, “This is nice, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nick says, looking back over his shoulder. “Yeah, love, it’s nice.”

Louis cleans up their lunch and heads outside for a quick smoke before getting back to work. He checks his phone when he’s back at his desk and replies to some of the tweets he’d got that morning about the track he’d mentioned. Loads of Instagram notifications await him, and he likes several of the comments before watching some of the Stories atop his screen.

Niall’s posted a video singing  _ Shallow _ at his desk, his Bradley Cooper impression dead on, and it sparks an idea. Before he can second guess himself, Louis taps out a quick email to Ed. It’s more a suggestion than a pitch: a piece ranking the songs from the  _ A Star Is Born _ soundtrack, assuming people have been listening to the whole album and not just  _ Shallow. _ It’s not really Louis’ taste, any of it, but the film was a smash, and will probably do well during award season. People might like a piece like that, he reasons, hitting send and turning back to his workload. 

After another few of hours and checking in with Jesy, Louis decides to call it a day. They’re all set for the week, have a few pieces queued up for Monday, and the next big thing on his list is the two thousand words he’ll have to write about letting Nick dress him for a week, which he’d rather wait and start after he sees his Day Seven look. Although he should really add some notes to his doc today. Most of this experience will be burned in his memory, but still, should come in handy. 

He gets up and stretches, twisting until he hears something crack, and checks his phone. Ed sent him an enthusiastic reply, copying his co-editor Anton, and Louis does a fist pump. He marks the message as unread so he can reply to it later, would be a bit keen to send something now. He thumbs over to his texts, a slow grin overtaking his face as he sees one that Nick had sent from upstairs not five minutes ago.

_ u up? _

Louis doesn’t bother replying; instead he takes the dogs out and settles them with treats in the sitting room before taking the stairs two at a time up to the bedroom. He pauses in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. 

Nick is in their bed, topless, with the sheets pooling around his waist. He sets his phone down on the nightstand and takes his glasses off. Like something out of a sexy librarian wet dream, he drags the end of the earpiece over his lip before biting it, all the while looking Louis up and down hungrily. 

“Got your text,” Louis announces, keeping his tone light as he wanders farther into the room. He won’t be able to keep up the casual facade for very long, already palming himself in his trackies.

“Looks like you are, in fact, up,” Nick remarks, the smug look on his face well earned. He tugs the duvet over on Louis’ side of the bed in invitation. “One part in particular.”

Louis shrugs off his jacket and sets it on the dresser. He spies Nick’s reflection in the full-length mirror, mouth going dry at the sight of his boyfriend pushing the sheets down and running his hand over his cock. Struck a bit dumb, Louis watches in the mirror as Nick strokes himself to full hardness. 

“As much as I love putting on a show for you, darling,” Nick says in a low voice as he rubs his thumb over the head, “I’ve been gagging for it all day, would you come over here and fuck me already?”

Louis whips around and takes a step toward the bed before Nick shakes his head.

“Kit off, love,” Nick commands. “Wanna see you.”

For a split second, Louis considers putting on a show himself but he’s suddenly gagging for it as well so he rips his jumper and trackies off, leaving them strewn across the floor. He slides into bed and Nick wraps his arms around him, kissing him hotly. Louis licks into Nick’s mouth and reaches a hand down to grope at Nick’s arse. His arms aren’t as stupidly long as Nick’s, so he has to scoot a little down his body, moving his tongue to lave at Nick’s neck.

Nick’s arse isn’t quite as peachy as his; it’s small and firm and so, so lovely. Louis doesn’t get to spend near enough time worshipping it, so he takes the opportunity to knead at Nick’s flesh, moving to lightly tease his finger down Nick’s crack. Nick’s breath hitches as Louis’ fingers stop when they reach something cool and plastic nestled in his cheeks. Images of Nick in their bed, using his long fingers to tease and slick up and stretch his opening, stuffing a plug in himself before texting him a booty call, short out Louis’ brain for a moment.

Finally he draws back to look Nick in the face, eyes flicking down to Nick’s gorgeous lips, stretched wide in a knowing grin. Louis presses a finger to the top of Nick’s upper lip, lightly caressing the cupid’s bow, before dragging his gaze back to Nick’s lust-blown eyes. 

“Someone’s been naughty,” Louis murmurs, moving his thumb to stroke over Nick’s neglected bottom lip. Nick draws him in, swirls his tongue over the digit, before releasing him with a pop. “You are gagging for it, aren’t you, love?”

“Yes.” Nick bats his eyes before getting serious, dropping his voice to murmur, “Want to get on my hands and knees for you, want you to fuck me, want to feel you, want–”

Louis groans, squeezing the base of his cock. He’s gone from soft to interested to fully hard in a matter of a couple minutes; if Nick keeps up his dirty talk, Louis will barely last one inside of him. He cuts Nick off by kissing him filthily, stretching his hand just far enough to tease the edge of Nick’s crack with his fingertips. A dab of precome smears against Louis’ thigh and he’s so caught up in the sensation of Nick’s skin against his that he’s not even sure whose it was, just that he needs to get his cock in Nick’s tight heat now. 

“Hands and knees, then,” he says breathlessly against Nick’s open mouth, straining for another kiss until Louis’ words register. 

Nick quickly pulls out of Louis’ grasp and rearranges his long limbs, resting his chin on his crossed forearms and presenting his arse to Louis, wiggling at him a few times. The small black base of the plug beckons Louis and he wraps his fingers around it, gently twisting it and marveling at Nick’s low moans. He rocks it back and forth a couple of times before easing it out and setting it on the nightstand. It can be properly taken care of later; there are far more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

There’s a handy bottle of lube next to Nick on the bed, so Louis plucks it up and wets two of fingers. Nick whines when he catches sight of him.

“Fingered myself for ages thinking about you,” he protests. “Don’t need them–”

“Sh, love,” Louis interrupts. He rubs a hand soothingly along Nick’s lower back as he pushes one of his fingers in. “I’ve barely got to touch you, my lovely boy all spread out for me. Just give me a moment, alright?”

Nick nods, pushing his arse back toward Louis, trying to get the angle right himself. He’s too eager for it, too impatient. Louis will have to take his time with him another day, so he gives in and presses both fingers in, easily locating Nick’s spot and rubbing the pads of his fingers over it. Nick drops his head, muffling his moans, and Louis doesn’t let up until Nick involuntarily kicks a leg out.

“Alright, love,” Louis chuckles, picking up the lube again to slick himself up, the laugh dying out as soon as his hand strokes over his cock, now throbbing with need. “Gonna fuck you so well, darling, give you what you need.”

“Give it to me  _ now,” _ Nick commands, turning his head to glare at Louis. “Fuck me, fuck me, fu-fuck!”

Nick cries out at Louis snubs the head of his cock against his eager hole, sliding into him in one slow, steady thrust. As he brings his hips flush with Nick’s arse, Nick sighs happily.

“Fucking finally,” he slurs. “Mm, so full, love it, love you, can’t wait for to fuck me…”

Louis waits for Nick to adjust as he babbles dirty talk about Louis fucking him, how much he loves it bare, how he wants it hard. When Nick pushes back against Louis, he takes his cue and starts thrusting into him, and Nick’s steady stream of filth morphs into low, long moans.

“Yeah, love?” Louis pants, building to a steady pace. “You like that, you like the way I’m fucking you?”

“Love it,” Nick gasps, twisting the sheets in his hands. “Fucking love the way you fuck me.”

Louis is so focused on Nick’s pleasure, chasing the right angle to hit his spot, thrusting fast enough, hard enough to please him, that his orgasm sneaks up on him. He only realizes a split second beforehand what’s about to happen and then he grips Nick’s hips and thrusts hard, once, twice, before his cock starts pulsing and he stills inside as his eyes white out. He comes back to himself a moment and admires Nick spread out in front of him, collapsed on the bed and breathing heavily.

“Made me come so fast, darling,” Louis says gently, pulling Nick back into his knees. “Here, love, let me make it up to you.”

Louis grips Nick’s arse with both hands, parting his cheeks to reveal his puffy pink hole, dripping obscenely with lube and come. Reverently, Louis drags his thumb through the mixture, lifting it up to his mouth to lick. He moans at the taste of them mixed together on his tongue and lowers his head to lap up more of it. Choking on a gasp, Nick brings a hand up to grip at Louis’ hair, pulling him closer.

Louis goes easily, eager to run his tongue over Nick’s hole as he snakes a hand forward to tug at Nick’s cock; he must be aching to come by now. His own spent cock twitches, but he focuses on Nick, doubling his efforts to bring him off. He teases a finger at Nick’s rim alongside his tongue before sliding it in and rubbing mercilessly on his spot until Nick is a trembling mess. He comes all over Louis’ hand with a shout, slumping forward as Louis dots his lower back with kisses. 

“Be right back, love,” he whispers into Nick’s skin as he catches his breath. “Alright?”

Nick waves a hand at him wordlessly, and Louis heads into the en suite. He washes his hands and face and then cleans his teeth while he takes a piss. There are several clean flannels in the cupboard, and he grabs a couple, wetting one to clean himself off. Nick won’t be in the mood for a shower, he’ll probably refuse to move until he gets a kip, so Louis wets the other one and goes back into the bedroom.

“Nick,” he says softly, climbing back onto the bed. “Gonna clean you up, love, alright?”

“Mmrph.” 

Nick flinches at the first touch of the cool, wet fabric against his skin, but melts back into the sheets, letting Louis clean him up. He rolls over once his backside is sorted, blinking slowly as he watches Louis start over on his front, gently wiping the streaks of come off his stomach first. Nick is always sleepy and pliant after he bottoms, and Louis very secretly likes this part, quietly taking care of him when they’re finished. They’ve both softened at the edges considerably since they first got together, but this absence of banter, this total softness, is still a bit rare for them.

His boyfriend may have softened, but he’s still house proud enough to cut off Louis’ bollocks if he tosses the wet flannel over the side of the bed, so Louis gets up when he’s done and puts it in the hamper in the closet. It’s a bit chilly in their room, so Louis tugs on a clean pair of pants and puts his jumper back on before opening the door in case the doggies want to snuggle. He climbs back in bed and sits up against the headboard, grabbing his phone to entertain him while Nick snoozes. 

“This pattern really is sick,” Nick says softly, fingering the hem of Louis’ jumper. Half his face is smushed against his pillow and half of it is looking up at Louis, soft and sleepy and full of love.

He’s fucking adorable.

“You’re fucking adorable,” Louis replies, leaning down and kissing Nick’s nose. He wrinkles his brow, pursing his lips for a real kiss, and Louis gives him one, soft and chaste. 

“Love you,” Nick yawns. “Knew from the moment I saw you, was gonna love you forever.”

A sudden weight lands on the bed and Pig scurries over the duvet to nose at Nick’s face, breaking the moment. Louis watches fondly as Pig settles in as little spoon and Nick feigns grumpiness but wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. A clatter of nails on the hardwood floor announces that Stinky has come to investigate, so Louis leans down to pick him up, arranging the duvet over him so Stinky can circle a few times and sit on his lap. 

“Love you, too,” he whispers to Nick’s dozing form, the wrinkles on his face that he hates and Louis loves smoothed out by sleep. “Gonna love you forever, too.”

Surrounded by his sleepy little family, Louis unlocks his phone and opens his notes doc, jotting down some of the jumble of stray thoughts he’s had over the past week. As he starts organizing them into some semblance of order, he realizes for the first time that he’ll have a rather lot to write about for this assignment. He’s half pleased, half put out. Harry might have been right about this one. 

He hates when Harry is right.

**DAY SEVEN**

They have a bit of a lie in, followed by a slow, lazy shower, since their only plans consist of meeting Louis’ work mates down at the pub ’round midday. Much to his chagrin, Louis kind of likes how Nick’s texturizing clay adds some shine to his hair and helps keep his fringe in order, so he sneaks a dab of it as Nick heads to the walk-in closet to prepare Louis’ outfit. 

“Alright,” Nick’s muffled voice calls out. “Come sit on the bed, wanna surprise you.”

Louis tweaks one last strand of hair and, satisfied, walks into the bedroom and dutifully sits on the bed. 

“Alright, love,” he says, setting his phone down beside him. “Am I supposed to close my eyes or summat?”

“No, no,” Nick replies, poking his head out of the closet. “I’m coming.”

Louis is about to make a joke, Nick has set him right up for one, but the banter dies on his lips when he sees the gold trainers in Nick’s hands. He’s not much for flash, but those are fucking sick. And they’re new; no way those have been collecting dust in the closet like some of the other things Nick has reminded him he owns this week.

“Don’t tell Harry,” Nick orders him, wagging a finger. “But this whole look is new. Just wanted to spoil you a bit, yeah?”

“Mm, I don’t know,” Louis says, shaking his head and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I am a journalist, I have certain ethical standards to meet–”

“Give over,” Nick laughs. “D’you want your pressies or not?”

“Yes! Yes, please,” Louis answers, clapping his hands. What Harry doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.

“Alright, so Nike trainers,” Nick says, setting them down next to Louis on the bed. “Air Max 97 revival, and no, I do not want to hear about how old you were in 1997.”

Louis bites his lip as he picks up one of the trainers and admires it.

“And you are going to wear socks with them,” Nick continues. “Don’t wanna hear any arguments out of you. Plain black trousers, here you go.”

Louis looks up, having quite forgotten there was going to be more.

“And I thought you might like this,” Nick says, more to the red and black striped top in his hands than to Louis. “It’s Martine Rose, ’s like an homage to your two favorite national pastimes: footie and beer. See, ’s like a jersey and she’s done her logo in a parody of the Carlsberg logo–”

“Nick,” Louis breathes, taking in the top as Nick holds it up. “I love it.”

“You do?” Nick breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, of course you do, darling, here, have a look at the back.”

He turns the jersey to show Louis the words EXPECT PERFECTION scrawled across the back and Louis beams. It’s a bit fucked up to think now how he’d expected Nick to try and change him into something he’s not this week when really every outfit, aside from the Cedric Diggory fiasco, has only made Louis feel more like himself. 

(Though to be fair, he really does look good in yellow.)

“You know me so well,” Louis murmurs, looking up at Nick through his lashes. “I thought… I thought you were going to make me look ridiculous this week, dress me up like you or how you want to see me, but, Nick… Nick, this is like – it’s me, but just kind of, I dunno, elevated?”

“That’s exactly it, darling,” Nick says, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Exactly it.”

He crouches down to hug Louis, and Louis clings to him. They don’t speak, letting their bodies do the talking for them, as they so often do; Louis secure in the knowledge that Nick does love him just as is (and that maybe, just maybe, Bridget Jones isn’t utter shite after all). 

“Right, then,” Nick says, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away. “We need to get dressed, we have a photoshoot to do, which I, for one, am going to miss–”

“What do they call those?” Louis asks, pulling on the trousers. “When you post those just because. I know there’s an acronym for it, right?”

“OOTD,” Nick nods. “Outfit of the day. Think that’s what Americans would call basic.”

“We did a piece on that,” Louis says, picking up the top from the bed. “Maybe two months ago? Embracing your inner basic bitch.”

“Well, if you need help with your OOTD tomorrow,” Nick laughs, miming tossing his hair, “you know who to go to.”

“Tomorrow,” Louis muses, smoothing his fringe after putting the jersey on. “What the fuck am I going to wear tomorrow?”

“Whatever the fuck you want, darling,” Nick says, giving him a quick kiss and smacking his arse. “If you need help with that too, I’m available.”

“My own personal stylist, lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

They clamber downstairs and Louis takes the dogs out while Nick sorts tea and coffee, bopping along to his playlist. Nick plays photog and makes Louis go through several ridiculous poses before finally taking a normal photo to Louis to post. Once Louis has had his second cuppa, Nick calls for a car so they can leave for the pub. 

The get-together is in full swing by the time Louis and Nick arrive, their gang taking up half the pub with drink glasses and half-eaten orders of chips littered across several small tables. Nick promptly abandons Louis to make a beeline for Harry, and Louis spares a thought for what kind of hipster business they have to conduct before making his way over to Niall and Zayn.

“Wey hey, Tommo,” Niall greets him, shoving a pint in his hand. “You’re late.”

“Alright, Neil,” Louis replies, flicking the brown fedora atop Niall’s head. Shawn or Hailee or both – someone has paired it with a light denim jacket over a plain white t-shirt and darker wash skinny jeans. He looks down sees that Niall’s Chelsea boots are a light grey. Ah, that gives it away. “Hailee sorted you today, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall answers, lifting his own glass in cheers. “How’d you know?”

“Shawn’s too matchy matchy,” Zayn chimes in, pointing to Niall’s boots. “He would have done brown shoes, same color as the hat. And these elbow patches.”

Louis reaches a hand to turn Niall’s arm, finding that he does indeed have brown patches covering his elbows. Huh.

“Bet Shawn chose the jacket, though,” he remarks, looking around. “Are they here? I’m gonna ask ’em.”

“Nah, Shawn’s supposed to stop by later,” Niall shakes his head. “But Hailee had plans with friends or summat, not sure.”

“She and G are doing a whole day of it with some of the girls,” Zayn says, shoving at Niall’s shoulder. “Brunch, shopping, manicures, the whole bit. Don’t you listen to your partners, Ni?”

“Oi, I do listen!” Niall retorts. “I’ve got two, though, it’s twice the amount of things to keep track of.”

“Maybe there’s an app for that,” Louis says mildly, taking a sip of his beer. “Let me know, we could do a piece on it.”

“Probably just Google cal,” Zayn suggests. “For plans and things. Or you could start bullet journaling, maybe.”

“Fuck off, lads,” Niall says cheerfully. “Don’t need fixing, thank you very much.”

Louis holds his hand up in surrender, turning to Zayn, who looks like himself in basic black skinnies and tee underneath a shearling-lined denim jacket. He reaches out and fingers one of the appliques on the jacket, cataloguing the designs: butterflies, a large tiger, a rose…

“What’s all this, then?” he asks, pointing at each applique that corresponds to Harry’s ink. “Why are you covered in Harry’s tattoos?” 

Niall guffaws at the sour face Zayn makes looking down at his jacket.

“Piss off, Tommo,” he sneers. “I’m not.”

Louis considers calling Harry and Nick over, but it’s just a bit of banter that might take a turn for the serious if they involve Harry. He and Zayn have a strange love/hate type of friendship and Louis can never keep track of whether it’s love or hate on a given day. 

“You’re literally wearing the receipts, Z,” Niall points out helpfully. “I wonder if Gigi noticed when she bought it.”

“Oi, I bought this jacket,” Zayn retorts, shoving at Niall’s shoulder. “Nowt to do with Harry, just liked it.” 

“You kinda like these, like,” Louis gestures vaguely at the appliques on the jacket, “flourishes? Like the zipper the other day. G’s kinda high fashion influence, you’re into it.”

“Dunno if I want to dress up in a harness everyday or anything like that,” Zayn says with a pointed look at Louis. “But yeah, ’s kinda cool, experimenting or whatever, might keep it up.”

“If you weren’t such a bookworm, you could go into modeling with her,” Niall offers. “Could cut myself on that jaw, ’s ridiculous.”

Louis takes a sip of his pint and looks around the pub as Niall and Zayn push at each other, spotting Bebe walk in with a date who looks suspiciously like his friend Luke. 

Or Hot Luke, he should say.

“I’ll be back,” he says vaguely in the direction of his friends, who don’t bother replying, too busy tussling. 

“Well, well, well,” he says as he approaches Bebe and Luke by the door. “What do we have here?”

“Hey, lad,” Luke greets him with a smile. “Thanks for lunch the other day. Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this bird from me all the time.”

“Hey,” Bebe squawks, hitting Luke’s chest lightly. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not even here.”

“Sorry, love,” Luke says, turning to her and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll get drinks, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Bebe says, chin held high. 

As soon as Luke walks off after clapping Louis’ back, she sags into him.

“Oh my god, Louis,” she whispers. “He’s even better in person. It’s so fucked up. How is he even better in person?”

“Thing going well, then?” Louis laughs, slinging his arm around her and pulling her close.

“Very well,” she says with a wink. “We’ve been texting non-stop all week, and then he came back to town last night and–”

“No need for details!” Louis mock protests. He squeezes her shoulder. “He’s a good lad, though, treat him right, hear? Or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Trust me,” she says with a wink. “I’ll treat him  _ very _ right.”

“Go on, go get your man,” Louis laughs, shrugging away from her and waving her off. “I’ll catch up with you later, darling, yeah?”

She winks again and saunters off to find Luke. Louis shakes his head and drains the rest of his pint. He heads up to the bar, ready for another and maybe an order of chips of his own. Jade and Perrie are leaning against the end of the bar so he grabs a spot next to them.

“Louis, you look gorgeous,” Jade whistles. “This top is major.”

“The  _ trainers,” _ Perrie exclaims, nudging Jade’s arm and pointing down. “The trainers are major. Wow, babes, you’ve been holding out.”

Louis smiles and does a little turn for them as they ooh and ahh over him. He already felt good, knew he looked good, but the confirmation is nice. When he’s done showing off, he turns his attention to the girls’ Day Seven outfits.

“So the ’90s really are back, huh,” he states, taking in Perrie’s lacy baby doll dress covered with a white overcoat and paired with Doc Martens. “With your blonde hair, you could be Courtney Love on that outfit, just without all the drama.”

Perrie rolls her eyes and does a little twirl herself and then Louis looks to Jade, who got lucky in simple blue skinny jeans, an oversize brown blazer and a large red plaid scarf looped twice around her neck. 

“Gorgeous, loves,” he continues, nodding in approval. “Straight out of the pages of  _ Sassy, _ you are.”

“Maybe Jed has been flipping through the copies I got off eBay,” Jade giggles. She slings an arm around Perrie and pulls her close. “Least I’m nice and warm today, unlike Pez. Poor thing is going to catch a chill.”

“You really do pull it off, love,” Louis says, wincing sympathetically as his eyes fall to Perrie’s bare legs. “But did Alex not realize it’s November? In London?”

“Apparently not,” Perrie grumbles, pulling her coat tight around her middle. 

The barman comes over to take their orders and Harry wanders over for a chat. He side eyes Louis’ outfit, no doubt knowing without having to be told that it’s new, but he focuses on the girls, exclaiming over their looks. 

“It’s just completely inappropriate for the pub!” Perrie says. “It’s a late autumn afternoon, for Christ’s sake. I’ll tell you right now, that’s my lesson learned for the article, straight men have no taste.”

Louis’ eyes are on Perrie, but he can practically feel Harry bristle next to him. 

“Come on, love,” he says, elbowing Harry to keep him off his soapbox. “Don’t you think that’s a bit reductive?”

“She’s just whingeing,” Jade says kindly, squeezing Perrie’s shoulder. “She’s cold.”

“Mostly just whingeing,” Perrie says, blushing. “But aren’t stereotypes like that usually rooted in some truth?”

“Okay,” Louis says, clapping a hand over Harry’s mouth. “Let’s save it for the article, then, alright, love? Come on, Harold, let’s have us a chat over there. Somewhere… not here.”

Louis waves to the girls as he drags Harry away. It’s been awhile since they’ve hung out, just the two of them, due to work and boyfriends who all get along with each other. Just life, Louis supposes. They’re a bit overdue. 

They settle at a corner table with a pint for Louis, a glass of white wine for Harry, and chips to share between them. Harry eyes Louis’ jersey.

“Tell me the truth,” he says gesturing to Louis’ outfit. “Those clothes are new. You know it, Grim knows it, I know it, just admit it.”

“If you admit the truth, too,” Louis replies evenly. “You rigged it so my name would get picked for the assignment. Go on, tell me, I won’t be that mad.”

“Oh, Lou,” Harry shakes his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Haven’t you figured it out by now? You’re the whole reason there’s an assignment in the first place.”

He sits back and sips his wine while he waits for Louis to process the information, the smug bastard.

“You smug bastard,” Louis remarks, shaking his head. “You didn’t.”

“I did, actually,” Harry replies. He sets his glass down and leans forward, crossing his forearms on the table. “Lou, you’re my best mate, yeah?”

“Depends on how this conversation goes,” Louis says lightly. “Think Zayn’s been angling for a promotion, he’s a good lad.”

“That’s not funny,” Harry says darkly. Ah, so it’s a hate day, then. “Take it back, Lewis.” 

“I take it back,” Louis says, shrugging. “’Course you’re my best mate, Haz, you know that.”

“Good,” Harry says, glaring across the room at Zayn. Louis kicks him under the table to get his attention back. “Right, so I’ve noticed lately you’ve, erm… been in a bit of a rut, yeah? Not yourself.”

“Jesus,” Louis looks to the heavens. “How much of a mardy bum have I been?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Harry rushes to assure him. “But I noticed you kept showing up in almost the same exact outfit every day, loose trackies and an old jumper. Barely any colors, just black and grey. And then you wore the same exact loose trackies and old jumper three times one week. And I knew it was time to do something.”

Louis’ never been the biggest fan of doing his own laundry, just ask his mum. Or Nick. But the same clothes three times in one week is a bit much, even for him. He nods at Harry to continue. 

“Our clothes are a reflection of our mental state,” Harry says simply. “And I know you’ve never really loved this job, but it took me a bit to notice how unhappy you were. And I thought this assignment might shake you out of your rut a little, make you start thinking about trying a bit more, yeah?”

“And you couldn’t assign it just to me,” Louis says slowly, putting the pieces of Harry’s deception together. “So you orchestrated this whole site-wide thing just to cover up the fact that you… wanted me to be happy?”

“Yeah, I did,” Harry says, jutting his chin out. “And I’d do it again.”

“Fuck off,” Louis says softly, no bite to it. “Love you, mate.”

“Love you, too,” Harry replies, giving him a gentle kick under the table, his feet encased in those god awful cream loafers. 

“If our clothes are a reflection of our mental state, Haz,” Louis says, straightening up in his chair with a smile, gesturing to Harry’s half-unbuttoned black blouse, wide-legged white trousers and said god awful loafers, “then what exactly does this outfit say about yours?”

“Thought that’d be obvious,” Harry sniffs, raising his wine glass to take a sip. “Wise beyond my years. Full of sage advice.”

“Piss off,” Louis laughs, draining the rest of his pint. Nick walks up behind him and hooks his chin over Louis’ shoulder. “Oh, hello, love.”

“Hello, cheater,” Harry says coolly. 

“Hazza, come on,” Nick whines, easing off of Louis and grabbing an empty chair. “I just wanted to treat my boyfriend, you can’t be mad.”

“There were rules, Nicholas,” Harry says primly, crossing his arms. “Rules you knew about.”

“Yeah, but it will make for a good end to the article,” Louis remarks, patting Nick down for the pack of cigarettes he knows is in one of his pockets. “And besides, how can you stay mad when I look this good?”

Harry honks a loud laugh as Louis does a twirl for them. He takes the pilfered pack of cigarettes outside and has a smoke with Zayn before heading to the bar for another round. They stay at the pub for awhile after that, bantering and laughing in small groups. Shawn arrives and Louis chats to him for awhile about coordinating colors before they team up against Niall for forgetting Hailee’s plans for the day. 

Perrie is the first to leave, still muttering about her bare legs. Jade’s next, off to meet Jed somewhere, and then Bebe and Luke leave together after jokingly pitching a piece to Harry about picking each other’s outfits after the first week of dating. The rest drift off one by one until Nick and Louis finally decide to head home. Louis holds Nick’s hand in the car back to theirs, rubbing his thumb over Nick’s soft skin as they hum along to his playlist. 

Louis takes the dogs out and then settles them with their bowls of supper in the kitchen before wandering into the sitting room and finding Nick glued to his phone. It’s as good a time as any to add some more notes to his doc so he can get a proper start on his piece tomorrow, so he grabs his laptop from the coffee table and turns it on, settling next to Nick on the sofa. 

_ I couldn’t help but wonder, _ he types at the top of a new blank document.  _ Did my wanker of a boyfriend have a point?  _

“Oi, Carrie Bradshaw,” Nick says, leaning to read over his shoulder. “That’s not on, you’re not going to keep that, are you?”

“You’ll just have to read the article when it goes up,” Louis says innocently, pulling the laptop out of Nick’s reach.

Louis’ bid to get Nick’s attention is officially a success when Nick tosses his phone aside. He sets the laptop back on the coffee table and looks at Nick expectantly. 

Nick lunges, twisting the front of Louis’ jersey as he dives in for a kiss.

“Oi!” Louis manages, tugging at Nick’s hand. “Watch the clothes!”

Nick draws back in amazement. “Well, well. Look how the tables have turned. Alright, come on, get your kit off then, want to snog you properly.”

And Louis supposes his notes can wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I love and appreciate nice comments, and here is a [ fic post](https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/post/185586228317/walk-walk-fashion-baby-by-disgruntledkittenface) to share!


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